


Five Dates

by smithandbarrowman



Series: Five Dates [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Romance, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-06-15 02:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 66,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandbarrowman/pseuds/smithandbarrowman
Summary: Five Dates, that’s what she offered. Five chances for him to prove himself. Five chances for her to fall even deeper.





	1. Chapter 1

 

********  HERMIONE  ********

* * *

 

 

My heels clicked on the hardwood floors as I made my way towards his office. The tiny sounds were louder than they should have been. It was late and the building was almost empty; a fact for which I was extremely grateful. My day had been hectic, to say the least, and last thing I wanted – or needed – was more attention.

 

I had become accustomed to the stares, the whispers, the pointed fingers, and had learned to ignore it all. But eight years after the war had ended, I had assumed that it would have all stopped.

 

It hadn’t.

 

Everywhere I went, I was still recognised, still stared at, still pointed at, and I hated it.

 

Of course, it was much worse for Harry, but he was much better at holding his temper in check than I was. His fame had been with him all his life, and in public he managed to simply smile or nod politely at anyone who pointed at him and move along, but in private, his rants were legendary.

 

And Ron, well, his calm demeanour was a total facade, but he refused to follow Harry’s lead. His temper was on a par with Ginny’s, and his colourful use of the English language ensured that he was rarely pursued. We all hated the limelight, and the notoriety, but it seemed it was something we would live with for the remainder of our lives.

 

So my late meeting was perfect. I had only passed two people, both of whom nodded and stood staring wide-eyed at me, like I’d never been here before, rather than on an almost weekly basis. I rolled my eyes at both of them and continued down the hallway to the office at the end. An office I had become extremely familiar with, when at one time I would have refused to even enter the building.

 

I paused. His PA’s desk was vacant, but that wasn’t what had caused me to pause in my tracks, it was late and I had expected her to have already left for the day. No, what had stopped me was the fact that his office door was closed. I frowned. My already frayed nerves tensed, and I let out a long, exasperated breath.

 

I had assumed he would be waiting impatiently for me, a meeting this late would have been pissing him off, but it was the only time I had left in my schedule. And since it was he who had requested the meeting in the first place, I was surprised that the door was closed. 

 

I huffed out another annoyed breath, taking a seat in the soft leather armchair opposite the empty desk, and a fleeting thought of why it was that his door might have been closed at this late hour made me wince. The thought of having to see a dishevelled woman walking out of that office had me wanting to race back down the hallway and forget his request to meet with me.

 

His reputation was well known. His womanising ways were the stuff of legend. And why wouldn’t they be? He was no longer thin and scrawny, the end of the war had done him well. He was now lean and muscular, his chest was broad, and his face no longer held the anger it once did.  And ‘freshly-fucked’ was the description I had often overheard when it came to his hair. And I found that I agreed. He now kept it short, and messed to perfection, and the description was apt.

 

However, it had been months since I had witnessed his womanising for myself. In fact, I wasn’t able to remember the last time I had actually seen him with a woman. And I hated to admit it, but _that_ fact had given me a sense of satisfaction that I couldn’t quite understand. He had changed, sure, but the feelings that had been stirring inside me of late when I was near him were confusing and I wasn’t sure exactly what to do about them.  Discussing anything about him with Ginny and Pansy was out of the question. If I even indicated that I wanted anything more than friendship with him, they would have us married within a month.

 

I glanced at the closed door and then leaned my head back, closing my eyes, digging my teeth into my lip, and letting my mind drift. I wondered, as I found myself doing more and more often, what that messy hair would feel like between my fingers, what that broad chest would look like under those perfectly tailored shirts, and the thought that most often kept me awake at night was what that arse would feel like as I gripped it in my hands. 

 

I imagined that he would know his way perfectly around a woman’s body, imagined hours and hours of long, drawn-out orgasms, of panting breaths and sweaty bodies, and of loose limbs and relaxed muscles.

 

I shifted in my seat, my body reacting to the images filtering through my mind – Draco slowly undressing me, Draco crawling over me, Draco’s naked skin sliding against mine. I imagined the full weight of him on me, imagined the sounds he would make, the filthy whispered words he would surely murmur against my ear.

 

I shouldn’t have been having these thoughts. Not about him. And certainly not here. But that blonde hair, and those grey eyes—

 

The clearing of a throat pulled me from my thoughts. My eyes flew open and I looked up to find him smirking at me. 

 

“Sorry to interrupt your nap, Granger.”

 

I smiled, and prayed that the heat in my chest hadn’t spread to my cheeks. “Well, I assumed that I had time, Malfoy.” I tilted my head to the side and looked towards the office door, “I mean, I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

 

He raised an eyebrow, amused, “And what is it exactly that you think you would be interrupting?”

 

I stood, straightening my spine, which still left me four inches shorter than he was, and shrugged, “I figured you were banging some random bint on your desk.”

 

He chuckled, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but alas, there’s no one here.” He stepped back, holding his arm out, inviting me to look. I rolled my eyes, but hesitated before looking past him and peering through the open door.  “I had a floo meeting that went over, that’s all,” He informed me as I followed him into his office and sat on the couch. “Nothing sordid was happening, I assure you.”

 

He sat beside me, leaving only a small space, and I crossed my legs, discreetly squeezing my thighs together in the hope that I could quell the heat that had built between them. I had been this close to him many times, but his proximity to me after my daydream had me wanting a little more distance. 

 

He leaned forward, reaching for the firewhiskey that was on the small table. He held it up to me and I nodded; it might have been exactly what I need to calm my nerves, and to stop me from throwing myself at him right there on the couch. It had been far too long since I’d been with anyone, and he was far too hot for me to not consider it. 

 

He handed me a glass and I downed half of it in one swallow, noting the frown on his face.

 

“Are you alright?” 

 

I nodded, “Shitty day, full of shitty people who want the earth but give nothing in return.”

 

“Oh, I know those people,” He reached over and squeezed my knee. It was a gesture that was meant to soothe, meant to simply indicate that he knew what I meant, but all it did was turn my stomach to liquid. 

 

“Why did you want to see me?” I asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to business and away from my lustful thoughts. “It wasn’t to get me drunk and grope me, was it?”

 

He pulled his hand away and held it up in a gesture of surrender, “No, Granger it wasn’t. If I wanted to grope you, it wouldn’t happen here.”

 

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him, “And where exactly would it happen if not here?”

 

He laughed but didn’t respond. Instead he crossed to his desk, returning with several rolls of parchment. I took them from him and unfurled each one.

 

He remained standing, watching as I read over the lists of ingredients he was requesting. I frowned. “These could have been owled to me, why the meeting, Malfoy?”

 

“Keep reading.” He said.

 

I looked up at him when I read the last one, and grinned, “Acromantula Venom? _Really_?”

 

He grinned back, “Well, rumour is that you and Longbottom went to some serious lengths to get it.”

 

I looked back at the parchment. Neville and I had both left The Ministry’s Herbology Department together, and began working as independent Herbologists, before banding together and becoming a new force to be reckoned with in the Herbology world. Neville was a genius with plants, his knowledge was vast and much respected, but we didn’t just deal in plants. 

 

I had become adept at sourcing rare ingredients, and our recent acquisition of Acromantula Venom from a live source had become of interest to several Potion makers, and now it appeared there was one more. 

 

“And why would you think we would choose to give it to you above anyone else?”

 

He smirked, “Well, I thought since we’re friends now...”

 

“Hmm,” I hummed, “Friends, yes. But maybe this is my chance to get back at you for all those nasty things you once said to me.”

 

His smirk faltered, “I, _ah_ , thought we were past all that.”

 

“Maybe,” I mused, “But we went to an awful lot of trouble to get this venom and we have had offers from several other buyers who have been much kinder to us.”

 

“I’m sure I could be kinder than any of them.” 

 

I laughed, “I’m not sure you’re capable of being  _that_  kind, Malfoy.” 

 

His smirk returned, “You have no idea what I’m capable of, Granger.”

 

“Oh, I’m certain I do.” 

 

“Well, then you must also have an idea of exactly what I’m willing to offer you.” He picked up the glass from the table and downed the last of his scotch, his eyes never leaving mine and the warmth stirred in my belly at the sight; dressed impeccably in tailored trousers, with a crisp white shirt and fitted waistcoat, and drinking scotch. He was a cliché come to life. 

 

“And what exactly is it that you’re offering?” 

 

“I assure you, I’m offering what no one else can give you.”

 

I rolled the sheets of parchment, dropping them into my bag, “If you could outline your offer and send it over, I’ll let you know if we’re willing to accept it.” I stood on legs that felt like jelly - wanting to get out of his office before the thin stretch of control I had snapped and I threw him to the floor and had my way with him – and stepped past him headed towards the door, reaching out to open it, but his hand slammed against it, startling me.

 

“Are you sure you want to play this game, Granger?” His voice was quiet and close to my ear, his breath warm on my skin making my spine stiffen. 

 

“I’m not playing a game,” I said, still facing the door, but I was unable to stop myself from leaning back into him. 

 

“We’ve been playing a game for months,” I felt his lips on my neck; a feather-light light brush against my skin that had the flames in my belly turning into an inferno. “Turn around, Granger.” 

 

I was sure he could hear my heart pounding in the silence that surrounded us, and pressed against him as I was, I could feel the heat of his body through my dress. I swallowed thickly and slowly turned to face him. His grey eyes had grown dark and were staring intently at me, his chest rising and falling with each slow, deep breath he took. He bit his bottom lip, the only sign of any hesitation, of waiting for me to slap him and leave. 

 

“What are you doing?” My voice shook, and my already tight nipples grew even harder, almost painfully so, as a sly grin spread across his face.

 

“I’m upping the game.”

 

His hand slid over my hip, his fingers trailing down my thigh, reaching for the hem of my dress. I sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers scorched across my skin, going higher and higher until he reached the edge of my knickers. He paused momentarily, still gauging my reaction, before slipping one long finger under the fabric and pressing against my clit. My jaw dropped open and I gripped his shoulders, my breath leaving me in a relieved huff. 

 

“Shit,” He groaned as he pushed his finger inside me, “You’re fucking drenched.” 

 

I tightened my grip on his shoulders and let my head fall back against the door. One finger. One fucking finger and I was gone. I wrapped my leg around his calf and groaned; that one, long finger felt like heaven sliding through me. And the fact that this finger belonged to Draco Malfoy just made it all the more hotter. 

 

I opened my eyes; he was watching my face, watching for any indication that I might, at any moment, scream bloody murder and punch his face. But that was the last thing on my mind. This felt way too good, way too perfect for me to even consider stopping. 

 

I shifted my grip, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him to me. I needed his mouth on mine, needed him closer, needed... _shit!_  I just needed more. 

 

And I got what I wanted.

 

His mouth landed roughly on mine, his lips hard and smooth, and he kissed me like I had imagined he would. His mouth was sure and commanding, dipping and teasing, his tongue dancing across mine. I pressed my hand against his chest, feeling his heart hammering as rapidly as mine, and a surge of pride flooded my veins knowing that I had this effect on him.

 

He pulled back and examined my face, his eyes roaming until his mouth curved into a devious smile. He slid his finger out of me, causing me to let out an involuntary moan and he chuckled, curling his fist around the thin lace of my knickers and tearing them off me in one fierce tug.

 

“Do you like this game, Granger?” He moved his mouth to my cheek and slid his hands up my ribs, stopping just below my breasts.

 

“No,” I hissed and grabbed his hands, placing them exactly where I wanted. “Keep fucking touching me.”

 

He chuckled, squeezing hard, his thumbs sliding back and forth over my tight nipples. His hands were rough, and I was sure that I would have bruises in the morning. Bruises that I wanted, as proof of just how much _he_ wanted me. I arched into his touch, groaning as he yanked my dress apart, tugging roughly at one bra cup and lifting my breast, bending to suck my nipple between his lips.

 

I reached down, pressing my hand to where he was straining against his trousers, and let out my own satisfied chuckle when he arched against me as I curled my fingers around him.

 

He lifted his head and pressed his lips to my throat, “You’re a fucking tease, Granger. You’re so fucking drenched, I wonder how often you think about me doing this.”

 

I made a choking sound as he circled my clit with that magical finger, his teeth biting gently on my ear lobe. 

 

“Do you think about this every day?” His finger pressed hard against my clit, “Do you touch yourself like this? Do you get yourself wet and come on your fingers?”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” I groaned, although I wasn’t sure if it was in response to his questions, or because his finger was flicking over my clit. But in both cases, my response would be the same. 

 

He kissed me again, hard and hungry, his mouth pressed firmly against mine. And just when I thought I would run out of air, he moved, nipping at my jaw and sucking over the place where my pulse thumped in my neck. 

 

“Is this what you want?” He murmured against my pulse, “Do you want me to fuck you, here in my office?”

 

“It’s exactly what I want.” I unbuttoned his trousers, sliding the zipper down, and got my own surprise; he was commando. I smiled at him as I wrapped my hand around his erection, squeezing hard. He looked down, watching my hand as I slid my fingers over him from base to tip, feeling him twitch and pulse in my hand. He was heavy and thick, and he was so hard he felt like granite. 

 

And he was big. Bigger than any other man I had ever been with, and I had a fleeting thought of just how much my body would have to stretch to accommodate him.

 

I dragged the tip of his cock over the wetness between my thighs, swallowing down the tiny flutter of fear that his size had caused, and luxuriated in the groan that vibrated from his chest. His cock was hard, but his skin was soft, so warm and wet from his own arousal. I pressed the tip to my opening and he lifted my leg higher, hooking it over his hip. His eyes locked on mine and he surged forward, sinking into me, stretching and filling me, and causing an almost painful ache between my thighs as if I’d never done this before. 

 

He paused momentarily, staring intently at me, waiting for me to relax around him. I smiled at him and nodded, and he began moving slowly, achingly so, and with each push he moved deeper and deeper inside me. I wanted watch, wanted to see every expression, every reaction, but I couldn’t. It was too much, too intimate, so I closed my eyes and focused on simply feeling where he filled me, how his hips pressed against mine, how his length slid against my clit with every thrust.

 

“Shit you’re tight,” he grunted and dug his fingers into my thigh.

 

“No,” I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside me, “Not me...you’re...big”

 

He laughed against my mouth, “I’ve been telling you for months I can give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced.”

 

I should have been incensed at his comment, but I couldn’t form a coherent sentence. His slow, deliberate strokes had taken away my ability to even think straight. 

 

He lifted my other leg, wrapping both my thighs over his hips, and I linked my ankles together. His fingers gripped so hard into my arse that I was sure I would have bruises to match those on my breasts. He stilled, looking up at me, and I stared right back. His angled features no longer seemed ominous, instead his sharp jaw and carved cheeks seemed more refined, and his grey eyes held a look that said he wanted to devour me, over and over again.

 

“What are you thinking?” He asked quietly.

 

I shook my head, “I’m not sure. I just know that I want this.”

 

“Good, because so do I.” He smiled and kissed me, slowly, quietly, differently, as if this was something more than a quick and dirty and rough fuck in his office.

 

He began to move again, and instantly the world fell away and all that was left was the two of us. Just the long, slow slide of him in and out of me, the feel of his hands gripping me tightly, the press of his hips against mine. The overwhelming feel of him inside me.

 

He looked down to where we were joined, and I followed his gaze, watching how he slowly moved into me, slick and strong, in and out, in long steady strokes.

 

“Granger,” He looked up at me, “You feel better than I imagined.”

 

His mouth covered mine before I could respond, his thrusts speeding up, becoming fast, almost urgent, feeling for all the world like he was completely lost in me, the way I was lost in him. He leaned into me, his face pressed into my neck, and the grunts that vibrated against my skin had the heavy ball of heat spreading lower in my belly and threatening to explode before I was truly ready.

 

My spine tingled as he moved faster, quickly sliding through me, rough and hard, in a way that I never knew that I wanted.

 

“Harder,” I groaned, and he complied, pressing me against the door and slamming up into me, harder and harder, until the friction became all too much, and the heavy ball of heat in my belly exploded along my sex causing me to cry out. 

 

My head rolled back against the door and I shuddered with the force of my orgasm. I had never come so hard in my life, had never felt the desperate rush of simply wanting someone to fuck me.

 

“Granger, fuck!” Draco bit into my neck and I felt him swell inside me, felt him shudder, felt the heat explode repeatedly from him as he came with the most erotic groan I’d ever heard in my life. 

 

He leaned into me, his body heavy, and his cock still twitching and pulsing inside me. His breath tickled my throat, and I slid my fingers through his damp hair. I giggled softly and he looked up at me. 

 

“Something funny?”

 

“Freshly fucked,” I told him with a nod and then tugged on his hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch, a small smile curling his lips. I smiled my own smile; he had clearly heard the gossip.

 

I sighed as he smoothed his hand along my thigh, caressing my warm skin, before moaning quietly and slowly pulling out of me. He eased me to the floor, holding my hips until my shaking legs were steady enough to hold me. 

 

I bit my lip. I’d just had sex with Draco Malfoy. And not just sex; rough, hot, hard, against-the-door sex. Sex that would go down in history as being the best of my life.  My heart had barely recovered, but it began racing again. I told myself not to panic, to stay calm and not freak out. I told myself that it was exactly what I had wanted - had needed - and that was all. I had scratched an itch; it didn’t have to be anything more.

 

“Granger—“ he began but I cut him off.

 

“Thanks, that was amazing.” I said straightening my dress and bending to pick up my bag that I hadn’t realised that I’d even dropped. “So,  _ah_ , send your proposal tomorrow.” 

 

He stared at me, dazed.

 

I turned, opened the door and walked out, telling myself not to run, not to look back. But when I reached the end of the hallway, I turned my head. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, his trousers open, and a smirk planted on his face. 

 

I paused, and my heart did a little leap. 

 

Whatever had just happened, I was sure it wasn’t the last time that it would. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

******* DRACO *******

* * *

 

The cool air hit me as I stepped outside and it was a welcome relief. The stuffy, stagnated air inside the building had caused my head to pound and my vision to blur. And the constant chatter, the constant demands, had brought me close to coming undone. 

I had work to do. In fact, ‘work to do’ was a joke. I was swamped, so swamped I could barely think straight. And thinking straight was a necessity in my work.  

But it was impossible; she was all over my office. It smelled of her, her perfume, her skin, of the stellar sex we’d had. And the fact that we’d had that stellar sex right in the place where I entered and left my office was near torture. I had stared at that door for three days, the three longest days of my life. I’d not heard from her, not seen her. And all of my owls had gone unanswered. 

And I was at a complete loss as to why. 

She hadn’t slapped me, hadn’t pushed me away. She had, in fact, told me that it had been exactly what she had wanted. And she had reacted to me in a way that I had not been prepared for. I had always imagined that she’d want quiet, slow love making in a bed, not rough, hard fucking. Rough, hard fucking in my office, where we could have been easily caught. But she’d not even seemed to be fazed, in fact she had begged for more, and had come so hard around me I had expected to be bruised. 

But then she had all but sprinted away from me, and had been silent in the days since. 

I was as confused as hell, and I had been barely able to concentrate on anything but her. The way she had looked at me, the way she had kissed me, the way she had wrapped her long legs around me, the images were on a continuous loop in my head. The woman I once hated, once despised, was now all I could think about. Her scent had surrounded me for hours after, her sounds echoed in my ears, and the feel of her around me had kept me almost constantly hard for three days. 

I ran my hand through my hair and let out a long breath, straightening my spine. Malfoy’s weren’t horny teenagers. Malfoy’s didn’t lust after women who ran off after spectacular sex. Malfoy’s weren’t weak. One hour. I could be gone for one hour. I could walk it off, clear my head, and return feeling less murderous. 

So I strode down the street, not actually sure where I was headed, but I just knew I had to get away. 

I rarely ventured out, not here anyway. Not in muggle London, and never on my own. The world had changed, but I was still adjusting, and I hated to admit it, but the muggle world still confounded me.  

I wasn’t stupid. I knew about cars and buses; I knew about the underground, about crossing roads, about traffic lights, but the way they moved so easily, without a second thought about how they would get from one place to another without floo’s, or apparating, or even broomsticks, still confounded me. They seemed quite content to simply spend hours travelling to and from home and work, happy to spend hours in coffee shops, hours sitting in parks, or apparently walking aimlessly through the streets.

It all seemed ridiculous, but as always seemed to be the norm when I did venture into this world, the people around me seemed happy and content with their lives.

I lifted my head, not realising just how far I had walked, and noted several cafe’s where people were sitting outside, enjoying the warmth on a rare sunny Autumn day. I smiled to myself, wondering if I dared to order muggle coffee from a muggle cafe, but since I had no muggle money, nor did I even know what it looked like, I shook that idea off as soon as it entered my mind.

I walked further along the street, looking at the various shops as I passed, not taking any real notice of what was in them until a familiar face inside a cafe caught my eye. I paused, watching as she frowned over the papers on the table in front of her, her finger tapping on her bottom lip absently. She was completely oblivious to everything around her, the level of concentration I remembered from our teen years.

I took a breath, knowing she wouldn’t be expecting to see me, but knowing that there was no way I would miss this opportunity. She had managed to avoid me – which I had begun to understand, since she was probably as confused as to what had happened as I was – but I wanted more than anything to simply see her.

Kissing her had been breathtaking, fucking her had been beyond a dream, and having her tell me she wanted me to fuck her had been my wildest fantasy. She was smart, surprisingly funny, and stunningly beautiful, she had been – and was - difficult to put out of my mind.

I pushed the door open, wincing at the jingle of the bells as I did so. But she didn’t look up, too absorbed in whatever it was that she was reading. A man behind the counter did look up, but I pointed to Granger and he smiled and nodded. I weaved around the tables and stopped in front of hers. She looked like every other business woman in London. Dressed impeccably; a simple black dress, that even while she was sitting, clung perfectly to her. Her once wild hair had been tamed and was looped behind one ear, and the tilt of her head to one side had me tamping down the image of my teeth on her neck. 

I cleared my throat, “Granger.”

Her head flew up, her gorgeous brown eyes were as wide as dinner plates. And I was sure that right that second she was wondering how the hell it was that I was in same cafe she was in, and a muggle cafe at that.

“Mind if I sit down?”

She nodded, still stunned, and watched me closely as I sat opposite her. I leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other, smiling at her.

“It’s good to see you.”

Her eyes darted around the cafe, and I almost laughed when she asked in a hushed whisper, “What are you doing here?" 

“I needed to get out of my office,” I said arching one eyebrow at her, loving the pink tinge that stained her cheeks, “And I just happened to be walking by and saw you.”

Her eyes went impossibly wider, “You? _You_ were walking past a mug—“ she lowered her voice, “A _muggle_ cafe, and I just happened to be here?”

I shifted in my seat and leaned forward, fixing her with a pointed stare. “Yes. This is purely coincidence, since you seemed to have vanished for three days.”

She looked at me for several seconds and then dropped her eyes. I waited for her to answer, but she remained quiet. I frowned and leaned closer, tapping her hand with my finger.

“Why have you ignored me?” 

“You know why,” She said, her voice still a whisper.

“No, actually I don’t.” 

She finally looked up at me, her cheeks pink, “Draco, you _know_ why.” 

I stared at her for a few beats, and then smiled, “Is it because I want that venom?” 

She pursed her lips, but a faint smile curled the corners of her mouth, “Yes. That’s exactly why.” 

I curled my fingers around hers, squeezing gently. “So, are you going to give me what I want?” 

Her breath caught and her cheeks turned pink again, “What?” 

“The venom,” I grinned at her, “Are you going to give it to me?” 

“I, _ah,_ maybe,” she stumbled over her words, clearly flustered, “I mean, probably.”

“Which is it?” I ducked my head to catch her eye, “Maybe, or probably?”

She pulled her hand from mine, and glared at me, “I can’t do this, not here.”

“Do what?” I asked, holding my palms up, innocently, “I’m simply asking for an ingredient.”

She gathered up her papers and stood, “Draco, you know what I mean. And I’m not doing this here.”

I stood, touching her arm lightly, stopping her departure, “Then talk to me somewhere else.”

My eyes never left her face as she looked around, and I knew that we had probably attracted an audience. She narrowed her eyes and nodded. 

“Fine,” She pushed past me and I grinned as I followed. 

She headed to the right and I fell into step with her, not even hiding the fact that I was watching her. She was resolutely staring ahead, her spine straight, her steps quick, and I chuckled when I realised where we were headed. 

“What?” she snapped, still looking straight ahead.

“Are you taking me to _your_ office?”

She stopped so suddenly that I was several feet ahead of her before I realised. I turned back to face her, and her expression held a look of death.  

“I’m _not_ having sex with you in my office.” She hissed, “We’re going there to talk. That’s it.” 

I stepped closer and dragged my finger slowly down her arm, “I’m sure you thought that the other night, but look what happened.” 

She let out a frustrated huff, and shoved past me, and I couldn’t help but laugh again. This was the Granger that I knew, this was the Granger that hated not being in control, and she was now taking me to her office to gain that control back. 

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t tease her.

I caught up with her and bumped her shoulder with mine, “Oh, come on, Granger. This could be our thing, phenomenal office sex.” 

She ignored me, but I noted the twitch in her jaw. Clearly she’d had the same thought. 

She came to a stop in front of a building. Small, old, and rundown, looking as though it would collapse any second. She pushed the door open, stepped inside, and turned to look at me.

“We’re here to talk,” She reminded me with a glare, “Nothing more.”

“Of course,” I held my palms up, smiling innocently, “Talk. That’s it.”

She stared at me for several seconds before huffing out a frustrated breath and spinning on her heel. I grinned, following her inside. 

I would never admit it, but I was incredibly jealous of her offices. The rundown exterior hid them perfectly, but the effect when stepping through the door was spectacular.

The foyer was incredible, large and open, and the glass ceiling gave the space a natural light and a sense of being outside. Various plants were displayed in a large, central circular garden, well tended and cared for. Two sofas sat opposite the reception desk, where a stern-faced witch looked out over the immaculate space.

Granger smiled and nodded at her, and led me across the foyer towards one of two doors that seemed to disappear into the walls. One led to the greenhouse, where I was sure Longbottom would be up to his elbows in dirt. He had an incredible knack for Herbology, and the quiet, nerdy boy from school no longer existed. He had become forceful and was not to be trifled with, and his greenhouse was off limits to everyone, except Granger, and those he personally invited. I had only been down there once, and I was duly impressed 

Everything was in order, neat rows of plants lined the wooden work benches, and the glass that made the foyer feel open and light, was even more apparent. The ceiling seemed to rise high into the clouds, vines climbed high along the roof beams and tree branches twisted up the walls. It was impressive and the extensive works that had gone into the orderly space were a testament to just how well Granger and Longbottom worked as a team. 

Granger tapped the closest door with her wand and it swung open, revealing another large space that held her PA’s desk. 

“Hermione,” the young man sitting behind it smiled brightly and then his eyes darted to me, his eyebrow arching. “I wasn’t aware that you were having blonde for lunch.”

“Believe me, Owen, blonde definitely wasn’t on the menu, besides you know I only like blondes for dinner.” She said without missing a beat, much to the delight of her assistant. 

He pressed his palms together and his eyes trailed from my face to my feet and back again. “Oh, but this one is delicious.” 

“Maybe I’ll let you taste him when I’m done,” She told him with a smirk at me, “Is my schedule clear for a few minutes?”

He nodded, “You’re back early, so you’ve got half an hour.”

“Thanks, Owen. No interruptions please.” She smiled at him and headed down the small hallway at the rear of his desk.

“Good to see you again, Owen.” I nodded and tapped the desk in front of him, “Found the man of your dreams yet?”

“Likewise, Mr. Malfoy.” He winked at me, “And no, the man of my dreams doesn’t come here nearly enough.” 

I chuckled and winked back at him, whispering, “Maybe that’s all about to change.” 

His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to respond, but I pressed my finger to my lips, in a _shh_ gesture, and rounded his desk, following the direction that Granger gone. It was a risk - Owen was a terrible gossip – but I knew that when it came to Granger, he became a vault.

I closed the door behind me, and once more I was jealously impressed. Her office was similar to the foyer. Open and well lighted, her desk was meticulously tidy and several large bookshelves lined one wall. 

She sat behind her desk, crossing her long legs, watching me, and I grinned, sitting opposite her, mimicking her pose.

“So,” I said and drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair. 

She stared right back at me, “So.”

“Three days of silence,” I kept my voice calm, “Why?”

She tilted her head to the side and smiled, “So, we’re jumping right in then?”

“You didn’t want to talk in the cafe, it’s why you brought me here,” I said pointedly, “So talk.”

She twisted her mouth thoughtfully, her eyes searching mine. But I remained stoic, not giving her anything, which seemed to frustrate her. She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.

“Is that what you planned to happen when I came to your office?” She asked looking up at me, and I shook my head “Because I certainly wasn’t expecting it.” She paused and bit her lip nervously, “Even though I wanted it.” 

“Likewise,” I said and I took pleasure in her smile, “Although, I sense a ‘but’ coming.” 

I could almost see her mind ticking over as she considered her response. She turned her gaze to the ceiling, staring up at the sky for several long moments. “Draco, what happened was incredible, but I’ve never done anything like that in my life. And I feel...I don’t know,” she shrugged, “You threw me off balance. The flirting, the game we’ve been playing, I thought it was just that; a game. Which one of us could get under the other’s skin the quickest. I didn’t really expect for it to develop into anything else.”

I nodded. It _had_ all been a game, at least at first. But for me it had become more, and each time we met, it became a challenge to make her squirm, a challenge to see just how far I could push her. And at first she had simply rolled her eyes and told me to grow up. And then slowly, she began to play along; tamping down smiles at my words, her cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink that had very little to do with being embarrassed, and finally, she began to play back, her innuendo and flirty comments surprising me.

“Do you want it to develop into something else?” I hoped I didn’t sound too desperate.

“You asked why I’ve been silent,” She smiled at me, “That’s pretty much _all_ I’ve thought about, whether I want more. 

“And?”

“I like you,” she said, “But can you imagine what we’d have to deal with if this became something. It would be crazy. And that would just be from Ginny and Pansy.” She twisted her lips thoughtfully before continuing. “It was hard enough with Miles, it would be worse with you.”

My stomach dropped. 

Granger and Weasley had fizzled out quicker than they had gotten together, the pair still often cringing in jest at each other. Weasley had moved on a few years later with Daphne Greengrass, the pair being much more suited - in my mind anyway.  And my own relationship with Daphne’s sister, Astoria, had been nothing more than a farce. Our parents had thought that we would be perfectly suited, which in actuality simply meant that they believed we would be perfectly suited to carry on the pureblood lines of both families.

We’d stuck it out for three years, living more as roommates with benefits than anything else. But under immense pressure from our families to get married, we both caved, admitting that neither of us really loved the other. She had headed off across the globe, doing exactly what she had always wanted; to see the world, carefree and reckless and not attached to a husband. And I truly had no desire to be tied down to her. 

But much to my dismay, as Astoria and I were calling it quits Granger started seeing my former Hogwarts Quiddich teammate, Miles Bletchley. It had been a complete shock the first time they had made an appearance together; the good-looking Quidditch star and the wizarding world’s most popular witch, and they had quickly become the favourite couple of the wizarding world. 

And for the next three years, Miles became the man I hated more than anyone else on the planet. The pair was blissfully happy. So, I tortured myself. Sleeping with as many women as I could, and picturing Granger under me, over me, on all fours in front of me, each and every time.

Then, a year ago Miles was recruited by an American team, and Granger refused to go with him. The split was awkward, with Miles proposing in the hope she'd change her mind. But she'd told him a resolute  _no_ , and he'd left anyway.

And then I had hated him all the more. 

Granger announced in the days after he left that she was swearing off men; men who simply assumed that sleeping in her bed meant that she would follow them anywhere. He’d had, she explained, three years to propose and if he hadn’t been prepared to do so before he left, then there was no way she would accept it simply because he had panicked. I knew she didn’t hate Miles, just what he’d done, but his actions had made things hard for me.

And now, it looked like he was still ruining my chances with her.

“So what are you saying?” I asked cautiously, “That we had spectacular sex, and now we’ll just forget it?”

“No,” She shook her head and smiled, “I’m saying I want to give this – us - a chance. But, not in public. Not yet. And not with our friends either.”

“In secret? Clandestine? Behind closed doors? Absolutely no one is to know. Is that what you’re saying?”

She nodded, “Yes. Can you handle that?”

I stood, circling her desk and twisting her chair to face me, “Do I get you every night?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for every night just yet. We can start out slow, once a week, see how it goes.”

 “Once a week. For how long?”

She ran her finger down my chest, stopping just above my belt buckle, and smiled. It was a familiar smile, I’d seen it on my own face; sly, cunning, knowing exactly what she wanted, and knowing I would never refuse.

“Five dates, Malfoy.” She said and laughed at my confused expression, “I want five dates with you. We’ve already fucked, so I want to know what else you can do to impress me.” 

“And after these five dates..?”

“If you impress me,” She slipped her finger just below the buckle, “You can have me every night.” 

I leaned down, slipping my own hand beneath the hem of her skirt, brushing my thumb over the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, “I think I’ve already impressed you.”

She sucked in a breath and it left her in a long, shaky exhale. “Yes, Malfoy, you _did_ impress me.” She grabbed my wrist, “But we’re not doing this here.”

“We still have twenty minutes,” I said, a slow smile creeping across my face, “I could definitely impress you in twenty minutes.”

She seemed to consider my offer, but then the thought disappeared. “I’m sure you could, but no. And there will be rules.”

I straightened and arched an eyebrow at her, “Rules?”

“Yes, rules.” She shifted in her chair, composing herself, “One date a week for the next five weeks. It’s all up to you. You choose the place, the time and the day.”

I grinned, “I like these rules.”

She smiled back, “There will be no sex on any of these dates.”  

My grin slipped from my face, “ _Ah_ , what?” 

She leaned forward, running her finger up my thigh, “You already impressed me with your...performance. Now I want you to impress me without it.” 

Her finger moved dangerously close to my half-hard cock, and it was my turn to grab her wrist. “And do these rules apply to you also?”

Her own smirk slipped - as if realising no sex for me also meant no sex for her - and she pulled her hand away, “I guess so.”

“You _guess_?” I asked, sliding my hand along her thigh. “You don’t sound exactly sure about these rules.”

Her eyes dropped to my hand, watching as it disappeared beneath her skirt. I leaned in closer, grazing my lips across her jaw and I held back my laugh when she uncrossed her thighs allowing my hand to move higher. I kissed the corner of her mouth and caught her gasp as my finger found its way beneath her underwear. I couldn’t help it; I needed to touch her before these rules took hold.

And she clearly thought the same. 

She twisted my tie in her hand and held me against her mouth as I slowly circled her clit. She groaned, and I smiled against her lips as she pushed into my hand. 

“Like that?” I pressed hard on her clit and she nodded, her jaw dropping as I slowly dipped one finger inside her.

Her head dropped back and she whispered my name into the space between us. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and her knuckles began to turn white as she gripped the arms of her chair. I slipped a second finger inside her and continued to move my thumb in circles over her clit. Her teeth dug into her lip and her breaths became shallow, and I felt her start to tense.

I clenched my jaw, and with a strength of will I never knew I possessed, I pulled my hand away, wincing and standing upright. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, and her face thunderstruck.

“Malfoy, what the hell?“ 

I straightened my tie and adjusted my trousers, and ran my fingers across my lip - forcing back the groan at her taste. I leaned down and kissed her, relishing the fact that her own tongue darted out across my lips, tasting herself from me.

“Your rules, Granger.”  I winked at her as I pulled back and walked towards the door. “I’m going to enjoy this game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving the love for chapter 1, as it was said...slow burns are all well and good, but staring out with a bang is even better...and that was my thought with this fic :)


	3. Chapter 3

******** HERMIONE  ********

* * *

 

 

To say I was glad for the weekend to come would be an understatement. My week had been a blur. I had hardly been able to concentrate on anything for longer than a few minutes.

Tuesday; fucking Draco in his office.

Friday; Draco sliding his hand under my skirt and fingering me in _my_ office, and then leaving me unsatisfied. _Very_ unsatisfied.

And the days between?

Well, my nights had been filled with particularly vivid dreams. Dreams that had both Draco and I naked, him over me, buried inside me, touching places I never thought possible, and leaving me with an ache that I was sure I would never satisfy on my own.

And to make matters worse, I’d not heard a peep from him. I had assumed that he would have been eager to get our dates under way, but nothing. No owl, no singing telegram, no outlandish gestures. Nothing. 

I’d woken early on Saturday morning after yet another dream, more frustrated and more on edge than I had ever remembered being in my life. Unable to go back to sleep, I had cleaned my flat, first magically, and then because I was so frustrated, I cleaned it again, by hand. I had tried to lose myself in a book, but to no avail, so I headed into my office, which was worse. One look at my chair and I was drawn right back to Draco’s hands in places that were still aching for him.

“Shit,” I swore as I lay in my bed staring at my ceiling on Sunday morning. Just a week ago my life was normal. Now my days – and worse, my nights – were filled with naked thoughts of Draco Malfoy. 

I dragged myself to my bathroom, and turned on the shower. Standing under the hot water I closed my eyes and my thoughts for the first time in almost a week went elsewhere.

_“No.”_

_The word was out of my mouth before it had even formed in my mind. But my immediate reaction had come as no surprise._

_Three years we had been together. Three years. And he’d had plenty of time to propose. But instead he had waited. Waited and then panicked. And that was why I said ‘no’._

_Miles Bletchley and I had met randomly at a Quidditch match that I had been dragged to. Ginny had insisted that I at least see her play one game. And that one game was the one he so happened to be at._

_A Quidditch star himself, he was simply there to watch, and truthfully, I hadn’t taken a terrible amount of notice of him while he, Ron, Harry and Blaise discussed the ins and outs of what was happening in the league. I had simply watched the match with mild interest, cheering Ginny on, but without the wild enthusiasm of the crowd around me._

_“You still hate this game?” Miles asked._

_“No,” I lied, with a shake of my head, “I don’t hate it, I just...” I looked back out at the players and held up my palms. “I don’t know.”_

_“Not the same as Gryffindor and Slytherin?”_

_I laughed, “I guess that’s it.”_

_He bumped me with his shoulder, “Or maybe it’s not the same without a handsome Bulgarian playing?”_

_“More likely,” Harry snorted and I felt my face heat up._

_I stared down at my feet - I would never live Krum down – but started and looked back up when Miles leaned close and lowered his voice._

_“Would an average-looking Slytherin do?” His lips twitched into a smile and my face grew hotter, causing me to look away._

_His attention, however, returned to the game, as if he’d not just propositioned me, chatting easily with the guys, leaping to his feet at what was apparently a poor call from the referee. But my feigned interest in the game had completely disappeared. He’d caught me off guard, and I was at a complete loss as to why he would even be interested in me._

_I hated Quiddich, he was a star. And we hardly knew each other. We had met briefly on one or two occasions, and then only in passing. So I had no idea as to why he had said what he had._

_I stole several glances at him, noting his strong jaw, his wavy sandy-blonde hair, his dark eyes dancing with delight. He was tall, not in Blaise’s league but close to six foot, and his strong shoulders and broad chest were surely the result of years of playing this game._

_He asked me to dinner that night, and by the end of the following week, we were dating. He was smart – which, rather shallowly, surprised me – and funny, and his old-school manners had me swooning._

_And everything was perfect._

_And then everything was good._

_And then everything was fine._

_Just fine._

_And then he proposed. But his proposal was empty_

_He had been approached with a highly lucrative offer in America to captain the top ranked Fitchburg Finches, and with our relationship in a giant rut, he proposed out of hope – hope that I would go with him, hope that this would be the thing that would bring us back to those first days. But we both knew that those days were long gone, and the last year we’d barely been an actual couple._

_So I had said no._

Our break-up had hurt, but it had not been unexpected, and in truth, he wasn’t solely to blame. We had been on a downward spiral for months, and his recruitment came at a time when our break up was inevitable. No one knew, of course, not even my closest friends. We’d managed fake smiles, managed to con the world, managed to con ourselves into believing that everything was perfect, when in actuality all that we were doing was hiding the fact we had failed.

We had gotten comfortable, had become complacent, had lived the easy life, had ignored the fact that we had never really discussed a future together. And on reflection, I had realised that, for the last year we’d been together, we had not truly been together, instead we had lived parallel lives. We had gone about our days on autopilot; work (for me), Quidditch (for him), dinner on the rare occasions that we weren’t busy, me seeing my friends, him seeing his, and our time together became less and less. 

Weekends were a write off. Quidditch kept him busy. Matches lasted hours, and one occasion, two days. And if the match did end quickly, it was a weekend of celebrations with his teammates.

I spent longer and longer hours working, wanting to shake off my name and build my reputation as a herbologist. And if I was being completely honest, I had started to drift away from him; the more I tried to tell myself everything would be fine and that we were just in a rut, the less I believed it. 

And the fact that Draco had been a near constant thought in my head since I realised that Miles and I were going nowhere, hadn’t helped. 

I wouldn’t cheat.  _Never._ Cheating was something that I could never abide. And I may have been being completely unfair to Miles – in fact I was being unfair to him – but, having to watch Draco enjoying his single status, I felt I was not being treated fairly myself.

I had watched at various social events as he had flirted with, and more often than not left with, woman after woman, and I wasn’t sure why I had become jealous when I had a boyfriend of my own. But I had been. And it was a feeling that I was unaccustomed to; a feeling that I was _extremely_ unaccustomed to when it came to Draco.

Miles had had his own following of fans, and I was sure there were many women who wanted my blood for simply being with him, but I had never once felt the jealousy over them that sat in my chest when I had watched Draco. 

But then Miles left, and Draco’s womanising stopped, and the flirting had started - well, flirting was probably a mild term. I had dismissed it at first, had simply written it off as Malfoy being, well, Malfoy. But as the weeks went by, I noted that something had changed and I found myself looking forward to seeing him, looking forward to hearing what filthy comment he would come up with. But what I looked forward to most was seeing the genuine smile that lit up his face in the first few seconds each time he saw me.

It had happened slowly, the switch from flirty innuendos to genuine smiles. But he’d been subtle, and I had come to the realisation that it had been his plan all along. I had assumed that the accidental leg bumps under the table were just that – accidents - but as they became more frequent, and as his leg lingered for longer against mine, I decided to stop playing his game and start playing my own.

So for the last couple of months, I had reacted differently, had not ignored him or rolled my eyes. Instead, I laughed with him, pretended embarrassment at his words, subtly touched his arm in passing. And with each passing week, I found myself falling deeper and deeper for him.

I sighed and leaned my head against the tiles. I wouldn’t over analyse this, I wouldn’t. Miles had left a year ago. Draco had not been seen with another woman for at least as long. Had he been waiting for us to split? Had he wanted to be with me for as long I wanted him? Had he—

_No,_ I told myself, shaking my head. No analysis, no over thinking, no regrets over my decision.  I had agreed to this. I had set rules, had set boundaries, and I couldn’t back out. Not that I would. I wanted to know if Draco’s feelings were the same as mine. I assumed that they were, but as much as I had seen in his eyes the same want I felt in my own heart, I was still nervous to allow him in completely; he was still Malfoy, and my instincts told me to be wary.

I finished showering and dried myself, dressing simply in skinny jeans and a loose-fitting top. I shoved my feet into a pair of ballet flats and grabbed my purse, heading out the door to meet Ginny, Pansy and Daphne for lunch.

 

* * *

 

I smiled and shook my head as I approached the table. The three people sitting there were a sight that few would have believed possible.

It had happened gradually. The war had ended, the trials of death eaters and wrong doers were over, and life moved on. We all followed our own courses, but over the years those courses overlapped, and our forced dealings with each other lead to the realisation that the war had ended, we were all now adults, and our differences should be set aside. 

So we had slowly become friends. It had been awkward at first, but time went on, and after several Friday nights in the pub after work, we started to relax. Old school rivalries still existed, but they were more in fun now.

But what made me shake my head the most wasn’t the fact that these three were now the people I considered my closest friends, but rather it was how unexpected their lives now looked. 

Harry and Ginny hadn’t been the ‘romance for the ages’ that everyone thought that they would be. They’d split about a year and a half after the war had ended, and the split had been anything but amicable - the two of them could barely be in the same room together - but once they’d both come to terms with the fact that neither loved each other as much as they both thought they had, they had finally been able to laugh it off, realising that teenage angst - and hormones- was not love.  

Pansy had been the first to accept an invitation to join us in the pub one Friday night and had eagerly jumped at the chance. None of us was aware that she had long harboured feelings for Harry and she’d shocked the hell out of all of us when she propositioned him one night in the forceful if-you-say-no-I’ll-kill-you way that she had and, to his credit, Harry had taken up the challenge. They had been married for almost a year and the regular grins on their faces made us all just a little bit sick. 

Ginny and Blaise had been slower to get together. Blaise freely admitted he had never held feelings for her, but the more time he spent with her, the deeper he fell and who could blame him? She was fiery and tempestuous, and stunningly beautiful on top of that, but unlike Pansy, Ginny been reluctant to jump in. Blaise, who was not usually known for being patient, had been exactly that; taking his time and slowly working his charm until she finally agreed to one date with him. And apparently it had been some date; they’d not been apart since.   

Daphne and Ron had quietly gotten together, hiding the fact from all of us for months. They were perfect together: Daphne’s quiet and calm demeanour was in stark contrast to Ron’s outlandish and mischievous one. And while Ron’s temper at the media was almost violent, Daphne managed to bring out a softer side in him, and I loved to watch the pair of them together. They were sweet, and kind, and thoughtful. And when they were together, it was as if no one else existed. And in those moments I was glad that Ron and I never amounted to anything, because to see my friend with his true soulmate delighted me. 

And now there was the real possibility of Draco and I becoming something, and _that_ had the potential to be the biggest surprise of all. 

“Finally,” Ginny said as I approached, the wide grin on her face letting me know that they had already been here a while and several drinks had already been consumed. “Where the hell have you been?” 

“Sorry,” I said, and hugged them all in turn, “I lost track of time.”

“ _You_ lost track of time?” Daphne narrowed her eyes at me, as I sat opposite her, “I find that hard to believe.” 

“My week has been crazy, and,” I shrugged, “I guess I just zoned out.” It wasn’t a lie, but I didn’t want to elaborate as to why.

“Zoned out, huh?” Ginny’s grin turned into a thoughtful smile, “Was a certain blonde involved in these thoughts?” 

I kept my face passive despite my heartbeat picking up. “Blonde? What are you talking about?” There was no possible way they knew.  _Was there?_  

Almost as soon as Draco’s flirting had started, they had gotten in on the act, insisting on an almost weekly basis that I should find out if the stories surrounding him were true. Well, at least Pansy and Ginny had anyway. Daphne had been more subdued, but her tiny smirks and occasional comment let me know that she was just as invested in pushing the two of us together as Ginny and Pansy were. So if they even had an inkling of what had happened, this would not be lunch, rather it would be an interrogation. 

But apparently they were talking about the other blonde.

Pansy put her hand on my arm, “We know how obsessive you are, and this week is a year since Miles left, right?" 

I looked at each of them in turn, and it suddenly dawned on me. The day after our tryst in Draco’s office was the day a year ago that I had said no. I had been so wrapped up in what had happened that I had completely overlooked the fact. Of course I’d been aware that the day was drawing closer, but Draco had thrown me completely off balance and made me forget all about Miles.

“We assumed that was why none of us had seen nor heard from you this week.” Daphne said in the kind manner I had come to love.

“ _Ah_ , yeah. I buried myself in work, trying not to think about it,” I said, and noting the looks of commiseration on their faces, “And Miles really wasn’t blonde. More of a sandy-brown.”

They laughed, and I internally high-fived myself for how adept I had become at lying. 

“You’re alright though?” Ginny asked.

“I’m fine,” I assured her, “He proposed, we split, it was a year ago, and I’m over him.” 

Pansy tipped her glass towards me, “Well, if you’re over him, here’s to finding another blonde to get under.” 

“Subtle, Pans,” I rolled my eyes at her.  

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” Ginny whined playfully, “You and Draco? Imagine how beautiful your babies would be.” 

“This again?” I groaned.

She leaned her elbows on the table and looked wistfully at me, “He’s so perfect. I never would have thought I would ever say that, but he is. Perfect hair, perfect face, perfect body. And the things he says to you? Imagine how they would sound whispered in your ear. And, _holy hell_ , those eyes? How can you resist him?”

I didn’t need her to tell me. I knew all about those whispered words in my ear; knew about his eyes, had seen the intensity in them up close. 

Daphne sniggered and asked her, “Does Blaise know about your crush on Draco?” 

“He does, but he’s not jealous,” She sighed, “That man makes me scream his name every night, and I doubt that anyone else could do that.”

We all stared at her for a beat and she laughed. 

“Not sorry.”

“We know,” I said rolling my eyes. For someone who was so reluctant to go out with him, Ginny quite happily shared hers and Blaise’s escapades with us, whether we wanted to hear about them or not. 

“Anyway,” Pansy drawled and turned her eyes back towards me, “Draco.”

I didn’t say anything. Her eyes were like laser beams boring into me, and I wanted to drop my gaze. But I knew if I looked away, they would instantly know something had happened – they were far too shrewd to not notice. So I just simply stared back at her.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Pansy groaned, “Will you just get naked and fuck him already? Put us all out of our misery.”

“Pansy,” Daphne chided gently and shook her head.

“What?” Pansy snorted, “I mean, it’s been fun and all watching the pair of them flirt. And the foreplay we’re subjected to in the pub each week? Well, that has been a delight, but enough already.”  She turned back to me, “He wants you. You want him. So get naked and fuck.”

“And why do you think I want him?” I tried to be as nonchalant as possible. Pansy had an apparent ability to read every thought I had.

She stared straight back at me, “Because of the way your face lights up every time you see him.”

“Pansy’s right,” Ginny added before I could reply, “I don’t think either of you realise just how perfect you are when you’re together.”

_If she only knew._

“Um, we’re  _not_  together.” 

Pansy popped a strawberry into her mouth and spoke around it, “Not yet.”

The image of Draco pressing me against his office door flashed through my mind, and despite my blood heating in my veins, I managed to keep my voice even while I told them another blatant lie. “I will not be having sex with Draco Malfoy.”

Ginny laughed, “You say that, but I don’t believe for one minute that you haven’t at least thought about it. 

She wasn’t wrong. It was all I had thought about this past week. I had constantly thought about his freshly fucked hair and his dirty mouth and of course I wanted to feel his hands on me again. But I knew this time if I tried to speak, I would give myself away. So I pursed my lips and gave them both a look that said  _drop it_. 

Daphne reached across the table and touched my arm, and told me calmly, “Hermione, maybe just think about it. Have dinner with him, just the two of you. You never know what might happen. I mean, look at the three of us,” she indicted between Pansy, Ginny and herself. “Did you ever imagine this?”

“No. I certainly didn’t.” I smiled and shook my head, “Look, I’ll think about, alright? But you need to drop it.” 

They all tried, and failed miserably, to hide their delight at my conceding to their will, but at least they did as I asked and the conversation shifted.

I hated lying to my friends, but they were already too invested in Draco and me becoming something, and that in itself was one of the main reasons that I had insisted that we keep whatever it was that was happening between us, between us. I already lived under a microscope, I wasn’t ready for the constant scrutiny that was sure to come when everyone discovered the truth.

I ran my fingers along the stem of my wine glass, only half listening to the conversation. They would kick my arse when they found out, but right now, I wanted to keep everything - wanted to keep Draco - to myself.

 

* * *

I took my time walking home. I could have simply apparated, but it had been an age since I had strolled through London’s streets, so I enjoyed the remainder of my afternoon simply wandering. I had so long lived in the magical world, it was easy to forget that this world existed.

I stopped in a second-hand book store; bought some new shoes in a quirky shop that I had passed on occasion but had never been in; and I even bought myself some bright yellow daisies from a weekend market I happened across. And with the cafes and shops busy with Sunday crowds, my mind was otherwise occupied. 

That was until I finally arrived home.

My small bunch of daisies paled in comparison to the enormous bunch that was perched on my doorstep. And attached to that bunch of yellow and white flowers was a rolled-up piece of parchment tied with an emerald green ribbon.

My heart rate soared and adrenaline surged through me at the thought of what could possibly be written on that paper. I instantly wanted to know, but at the same time I  _didn’t_  want to know. 

I stood staring at it, like it was a bomb about to explode, and a shot of panic joined the surge of adrenaline as a thousand possibilities ran through my mind simultaneously. I shouldn’t have been so flippant with my rules; I should have been clearer, should have been concise, aside from the no sex rule, the rest was pretty open to interpretation. And _Merlin_ only knew how Draco Malfoy would interpret them.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. He wasn’t the same Draco from our teenage years. I knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t some weird psychopath. It would be fine. 

I bent and picked up the flowers and let myself into my flat, depositing them, along with my purchases, onto the counter in my kitchen. I took another deep breath and untied the parchment from the flowers, slowly unrolling it with shaking fingers.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I laughed at myself and shook my head. It was a simple note in his fine cursive, asking me to meet with him on Tuesday at 10.00am at an address that made no sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, much thanks for loving this story so far.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

****** DRACO ******

* * *

 

My nerves hit me, and for the first time since I’d come up with this idea, I began doubting if I could pull it off. She wanted me to impress her, and right now, I was so far from what I knew, I was sure that I would screw up so badly, she would back out of this agreement and it would be all over. 

What I was doing was so far removed from my usual routine - meet a girl at a pub, have a few drinks, go back to her place to shag, go home and not give her another thought. But this was Granger. She was the one thing I wanted above everything else, and the uncertainty I felt was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I’d never been nervous with a woman before. In my experience women were happy to throw themselves at my feet, happy for the notoriety of having been with me, it had been far too easy, but Granger was different.  

Granger had seen the worst of me, had experienced it firsthand. I had been so truly despicable that, despite the phenomenal sex we’d already had, even I was surprised that she was willing to give me a chance. A chance I wasn’t going to squander

And it was for that reason I had arrived almost half an hour early, and was now sitting, staring, as she made her way through the doors. 

My breath caught; she stood out in this crowd of people like a beacon. My cock sprang to attention in my pants at the sight of her, and I had to remind myself that this was only our first date, I still had a long way to go.  

She looked around, her eyes scanning the crowd, and since she hadn’t yet seen me yet, I enjoyed my chance to just watch her. 

She was perfection wrapped in one delicious package. Poised, with her shoulders back, her spine straight, a gentle sway in her hips with every step she took. Her hair was twisted into an elegant mess atop her head and she moved with such grace, she was hard to miss. 

And I also didn’t miss the way the eyes of several men moved from Granger’s face down her lean body to her feet and back up before returning to their conversations.  

I wanted to hex them all.  

_She’s mine,_  I thought,  _she’s mine, and I want her naked in my bed every night._  

Her eyes finally landed on me and a smile lit up her face, a smile she didn’t even try to hide. My own smile matched hers as I stood to greet her as she approached. 

“You were staring at me, you pervert.” She said as she stopped in front of me, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk. 

“You look beautiful,” I said and then indicated back over her shoulder, “But I wasn’t the only one staring at you, I mean, look at what you’re wearing.” 

She looked down at herself and then smiled back up at me, “You like it?” 

_Fuck me._ Did I like it?  

Her dress was white, sleeveless with a crossover neckline that dipped just low enough to give a teasing glimpse of what lay beneath it. The fabric clung tightly to her torso and then the skirt flared out from her waist and fell just above her knees. She had a small purse clutched in her hand and what I presumed to be a silk wrap draped over her arm. She looked elegant, sophisticated and perfectly dressed for a day at work. But she was also as sexy as hell, and the white? I had to suddenly think of very cold things. 

“I wasn’t aware that you were such a tease, Granger,” I took a step closer to her, “Are you deliberately trying to get a rise out of me?”  

She raised one eyebrow, “Is it working?”  

“Do you want to come home with me and find out?”

She laughed, “And miss out on this date you’ve organised in the middle of the day on a Tuesday?” She frowned slightly, “How was it that you knew my schedule was free today?”  

“Your assistant has been most helpful.” I said with a wink.

“Owen?” Her eyes went wide and in an almost comical gesture, she glanced around and lowered her voice, “Owen knows? You weren’t supposed to tell anyone, Draco!” 

I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “Its Owen. You’re his idol. He won’t tell a soul, you know that.” 

“But—“  

I pressed my finger against her lips, “He worships the ground you walk on. He won’t tell a soul.” I repeated and she nodded. “Besides, I needed some help with this.”  

“You needed help?” Her smile returned, “The great Draco Malfoy needed help?” 

I reached out and pinched her hip, “Yes, I needed help. Impressing Hermione Granger is no easy task." 

She looked around and then said dryly,“We’re in a ferry terminal, I don’t think Owen was that much of a help.” 

I laughed, “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Granger." I held out my arm and she hesitated slightly, before smiling and looping her hand around to grip my bicep.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“We are.”

She held up the tiny clutch, “Should I have packed clothes?”

“No, it’s just for the afternoon.” 

“Are we going on the ferry?” 

I stopped walking and turned her to face me, “Granger, you asked me to impress you, can you please give me the chance to do so?” 

She squeezed my arm, “I’m sorry. It’s just that this is all very confusing.” 

“Why is that?” 

She looked around, and then spoke in a hushed voice, “Well, we’re in a muggle ferry terminal, which I assume means we’re going somewhere, but since you’re a wizard and I’m a witch, I’m sure wherever we’re going we could simply disapparate.” 

“Yes, you’re correct, we certainly could disapparate. But the whole point of impressing someone is actually impressing them. So,” I held my arm out again, “If you will, Ms. Granger.”

She laughed and took my arm, “Of course, Mr. Malfoy.” 

I laughed with her, but it was mostly to hide my nerves. Granger was right; disapparating would have been much simpler, and quicker, but I had something to prove, and wanted to impress her in a way that she least expected. 

I had recruited her assistant to help me since he was muggleborn, and had knowledge of such things, and he had been most pleased to be able to help. In fact, he had been so willing that all I had to do was memorise the terminal layout, and ensure we boarded the ferry on time.

But as we approached the check-in point, we were met by a smiling man who seemed to know exactly who we were. 

“Mr. Malfoy? Ms. Granger?” He looked between us and I nodded, “Excellent. Mr Murphy asked that I meet with you and escort you personally to your private cabin.” 

Granger looked at me with a raised eyebrow, “Private cabin?” 

I nodded, “Yes, I thought it might be more comfortable.”

She continued to look at me, a slight frown on her face, which confused me. I had told Owen to spare no expense, and had assumed when he told me that he’d organised a private cabin for us, Granger would be pleased. Her wanting to keep this arrangement between us for the time being was reason enough to stay hidden.  

I was sure it would be a rare chance that anyone would see us - as she had pointed out, disapparating would have made more sense - and I was also sure that there would be no one from our world on a muggle ferry. But not one to take a chance and piss her off, Owens suggestion of a private cabin made perfect sense. But her expression was somewhat worrying.  

We followedour escort in silence as he explained the workings of the boat, but I was only half listening. Granger had dropped her hand away from my arm and was staring straight ahead. Her shoulders were less poised and more tense, and her jaw was tightly set. 

Her shoulders grew even more rigid when we finally stopped outside a door that our oblivious host indicated was our room. He opened it with a broad smileand led us through. 

And my stomach dropped.  

The bed in the centre of the room screamed ‘I want to fuck you right here.’  

And the reason for her anger was obvious.  

She knew about ferries, knew about private cabins, knew that this was what would have confronted us, whereas I had no clues.  

I touched her arm lightly, and shot her an apologetic look, mouthing the word _sorry_ as the muggle prattled on about the room and how things worked. She looked at me for several seconds, before her face softened with the realisation that I had no idea that there would be a bed in this room.  

“I think we’ll be fine,” She interrupted our host, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” His face flushed pink and he stammered, “ _Ah_ , Mr Murphy asked that you be given VIP treatment, but,  _ah_ , we don’t normally do that. But he had paid extra for the, _ah_ , privilege. So if there’s anything you want, please call down and we’ll have it brought straight up.” He smiled and nodded - slightly embarrassed that we might have been people he should have known but couldn’t place us - and finally left.  

She shut the door behind him and turned to face me. I reached awkwardly for the back of my neck and winced, “I’m sorry, Granger. I truly had no idea. I thought a private cabin would be like the Hogwarts Express, that we would just have seating of our own. I didn’t expect there to be—“ 

She stepped forward and my heart took a stumble; I was taken completely aback when she stopped my rambling with her lips on mine. She lingered for several seconds and then pulled away, smiling.  

“Thank you.” She said, brushing her hand across my cheek. 

“Thank you?” 

She nodded, “This is incredibly sweet, and thoughtful, and I know you had no idea about this.” She pointed at the bed. 

“I don’t get it,” I admitted, “Why would you need a bed for boat ride?” 

She dug her teeth into her lip, fighting back a laugh, and felt my face heat up. 

“No...I...know...I...didn’t mean...” I stammered and then pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning, “I totally screwed this up, didn’t I?” 

“Draco, no,” She gently prised my hand away from my face, “You were trying to do this in a non-magical way?”  

I nodded, “Yeah. Not very well though.” 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she gripped my hips, “You are so far out of your comfort zone right now, and that is what is impressing me.” 

“You’re sure?” I asked a little too hopefully. 

“I am. I figured you’d just take me to dinner and continue with the filthy comments and innuendo.” She kissed me again, quickly, “This is so much better.” 

I grinned and darted my eyes to the bed, “Maybe it could be even better.” 

She laughed and slapped my chest, “And there it is.”

I squeezed her shoulders, “That bloke said there was a bar? Maybe we could go there.”  

“ _Ah,_ it’s ten fifteen in the morning,” she reminded me, “It might be a little too early for a drink.”  

“Cafe then?” 

“Or, we could just stay here.” She turned a waved her hand towards the bed and it instantly transfigured into a comfy looking sofa. She looked back at me, “If you can control yourself, that is.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of controlling myself, Granger,” I reached out and teased my thumb across her bottom lip, “What about you?” 

Her eyes dropped to my lips, and for a second I thought she might forget her stupid rules and transfigure the bed back.  

But I was sorely disappointed. 

She stepped back and kicked her shoes off, folding her legs beneath her as she sat on the sofa. “Well, since we’re apparently both in control of ourselves, I’m sure this will be fine.” 

I grinned and sat beside her. 

_Game on, Granger._

* * *

“Dublin?” Her eyes lit up and her smile was wide. 

We’d made the journey across the Irish Sea, and were now making our way towards the exit and away from the confines of the stuffy terminal. I could not understand how this was an efficient way of travelling; crowds of people, long queues, loud children. I should have just disapperated us and been done with.

But I retained my temper, and asked, “Are you impressed?”  

“Well, that depends,” she gave me a questioning look, “Are we going to a distillery?”

“As much as I like muggle whiskey, that would be a backwards step in this venture.” I held the door open for her and followed her through, “No, Ms. Granger, I have a whole other surprise for you.”  

“Ooh, are we chasing leprechauns?” She gripped my arm tightly, “No! We’re finding fairy circles, aren’t we?” 

“Okay, if you keep up with these clichés, you will be asked to leave this country and you will never be allowed to return.” I looked down at her and she was grinning at me. “You knew we were coming here, didn’t you?” 

“A three hour ferry trip from the coast?” She was still grinning, “It was just a little bit obvious.” 

I narrowed my eyes, “Do you remember what happened the last time you teased me?” 

“You put your hand in my pants and then fucked me against your office door?” She shot me a sweet smile and shrugged one shoulder, “At least I think that’s what happened.”  

“Oh, _that’s_ what happened.” I arched an eyebrow at her, “And I suspect you liked it so much, you’d gladly give up these rules of yours and let me do it again. You’re just too stubborn.”  

“And I’m sure in that sly brain of yours, you’ve already plotted a thousand ways around my rules.”   

“A  _thousand_  ways is a gross underestimate, Granger.”  

“Well, then,” she smirked, “I look forward to what you come up with.” 

“I have absolutely no doubt that you’ll like what I come up with.” I said leaning close to her ear, “And just so you know, you’re the most amazing shag I’ve ever had.” 

Her breath hitched and her eyes went wide, a flush of pink tinged her cheeks, “So,  _ah_ , where is this amazing surprise of yours?”  

I grinned at her, knowing full well that I had caught her off guard. I nodded in the direction we were headed, “Just around the corner there, we can disapparate to our destination.”

“I thought this was a non-magical date?”

I looked back over my shoulder in the direction that we had come, “That is the absolute last time I will ever travel by muggle transportation. That was a horrendous waste of time.” 

She pressed her hand to her chest and replied mockingly, “Was my company not entertaining enough for you?” 

“Your company has been delightful,” I said, “But  _three_  hours? How do these people get anything done when it takes that long to get anywhere?”  

“The train to school always took longer,” she pointed out.  

“We were children; we weren’t permitted to disapparate.” I pulled her to me and kissed her quickly as we stepped out of sight, “We can now though.” 

* * *

I watched her closely as we approached our destination. I could see her eyes growing wider, see the smile spread across her face. She turned her gaze to me and her smile widened. 

“This was not what I was expecting.” She squeezed my hand, “Not at all, Draco. You’ve surprised me. Thank you.”

Trinity College in Dublin, more specifically The College Libraries were our destination. And the current expression on Granger’s face let me know I had made the right choice. 

“You’re welcome, Granger.” I said, slightly embarrassed by her compliment, and ushered her towards the Old Library building.

“Mr Malfoy,” Helen Shenton, the library’s director greeted us as we made our way through the main entrance. “It’s wonderful to have you visit with us again.”  

“Thank you for your time, Helen,” I shook her outstretched hand, “I hope we haven’t interrupted your day.” 

“Of course not,” she beamed at me, “I’m more than happy to spare a few minutes for one of our main benefactors.” 

I nodded and then introduced her to Granger. “Helen, this is Hermione Granger. Granger, this is Helen Shenton, the librarian and archivist here at the college.”  

The pair exchanged pleasantries, and I smiled at the look of complete awe on Granger’s face. The library director may have just become her new idol.  

“Mr Malfoy tells me that you’re considering some sort of partnership venture with him, and that you have an interest in rare books and special collections?”  

“Oh, yes,” Granger nodded, the confusion evident in her eyes, but she covered well, “Very much so. I believe books are a very important investment.”

“I’m pleased to hear that,” Helen said and smiled at me. 

She had no idea who Granger was, had no idea she wasn’t some rich philanthropist, but the large donation that the library would receive in Grangers name would ensure that she was a welcome face at any time she wished to visit. 

“Well, Ms Granger, as you probably are already aware, the library has approximately six million volumes, and holds thousands of rare, and very early, editions.” 

She led us past a line that was forming just inside the building, and the people there eyed us with the same suspicion that our ferry host had done; that we were possibly famous and that they should know us, but couldn’t place us.  

“This is The Long Room. I’m sure you recognise it,” she smiled again at Granger’s wide-eyed stare at the room in front of us. “Two hundred thousand volumes are housed here, and it’s what draws the tourists,” she nodded back towards the line, “You can stay as long as you like, but I would ask you to not touch the books. Mr Malfoy has certain privileges, but they don’t extend that far.”  

I chuckled quietly at the look on Granger’s face; surprise, confusion, and awe. It was an adorable combination.  

“The staff are aware that you’re here, and not to be bothered,” Helen continued, “And when you’re ready, you can head over to the reading rooms, the staff there are also aware that you’ll be visiting today, so you should have no issues when you arrive.”  

“Thank you,” Granger said in a breathy voice as she stared up at the curved ceiling and archways in the gallery.  

I echoed her sentiments, thanking Helen, and assuring her that I would be in touch with her soon. 

“Privileges?” Granger asked in a hushed tone when Helen was out of earshot.

“Yes, privileges,” I said and put my hand gently on her back, leading her slowly down the long central walkway. “I have been a benefactor of the library for several years now, and that comes with certain perks.” 

“Why this library in particular?” She asked, her eyes darting between me and the shelves of books that towered above us. “Why not the Hogwarts one, or a British one?” 

“None of them are this spectacular,” I held a palm up, “I mean, seriously, tell me you’re not impressed.” 

“I’m definitely impressed, Malfoy,” she said, “You have certainly set the bar high with this date.” 

Her comment warmed my chest. I hadn’t been completely sure if she would consider this a date. As she had pointed out, she assumed a simple dinner and more filthy innuendo was what she had expected, so for her to be so completely surprised at my bringing her here, warmed me in a way that was unexpected. 

“So you’re happy to spend the afternoon quietly reading?” 

“Yes,” She said and laughed quietly, “I think you know me better than I realised.” 

I reached for her hand and slipped my fingers between hers. She looked down and I winced, “Sorry. Is this okay?”

She bit her lip and then smiled, squeezing our fingers together, “Actually it is.” 

“The reading room then?” 

She nodded and I led us outside and to the building next door, where Helen had assured me that I had chosen the perfect time to visit; it would be reasonably quiet. And she was right. There were a few people sitting at the long tables in the central Reading Room, but the gallery was vacant, and that’s where I headed. 

Granger’s eyes moved around the room and then lifted to the ceiling. It was nowhere near as ornate as the Long Room, but I could see in her face that the quiet of the building appealed to her. I was sure if she was given the opportunity, she would spend days here, pretending that the world outside didn’t exist. 

I stopped at the top of the steps, turning to smile at her, “We can hide up here. Spend the entire afternoon, if you wish. And no one will see us.”

She grinned, “And why is hiding so important, Malfoy?” 

“I thought you wanted this to be a secret,” My eyes roamed across her chest. “But if you’re having second thoughts...”

She simply smiled and held out her hand, “Lead the way.”  

I walked her halfway around the gallery and found a small desk that was hidden away. I pulled out a chair and waited for her to sit down, before taking the seat beside her. I laughed when she opened the tiny purse and pulled out a book, and then another and handed it to me. 

“Always prepared, Granger?” 

“Always,” She confirmed and then opened the book on the table in front of her. 

I followed suit and we sat in companionable silence, and I realised just how much I loved simply being in her presence. But as much as her presence soothed me, I craved her touch, and had done so since Friday in her office. 

I looked at her from the corner of my eye and found her staring intently at her book, but a smile was curling the corner of her mouth.  

“Read your book, Malfoy,” she said in a hushed voice. 

“But you’re much more interesting to look at,” I whispered.  

Without looking up, she touched my cheek, gently turning my head to look away from her and I laughed quietly. 

I peered across the gallery. We were invisible from our position thanks to the solid rail and the large columns in the octagonal layout. Of course, if anyone happened along here, we would be fully exposed. But something inside me began to ache with the need to do more than just sit here beside her. 

Sliding my arm slowly across the back of her chair, I angled myself closer to her, pressing my leg against hers, and ran my finger from her elbow to her shoulder, watching as goose bumps broke out across her skin. She looked up at me, a surprised frown between her brows. 

“You look beautiful,” I said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. 

“You already told me that,” She whispered back, her eyes dropping to look at my hand on her arm, “And what are you doing?” 

“Not having sex with you.” I grinned and reached across my body and dropped my hand to her leg, brushing my fingers along her thigh, pulling the hem of her dress to her hip.

She grabbed my wrist, “Draco, we’re in a library.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

She looked around, and I thought she _would_ stop me. I knew when I walked out of her office on Friday that I had left her in a right state, but when she looked back at me, her eyes were wide and she was biting her lip; it was a look that told me she wanted this as much as I did. She released my wrist and gripped my bicep, nodding her consent and shifting in her chair. 

I traced my fingers over the soft skin on the inside of her thigh, causing her breath to catch and her grip on my arm to tighten.  

“Feel good?” I asked and she murmured  _yes,_ and her breath hitched again when I moved higher to the lace of her knickers. “You’re soaked already, Granger.” 

“Libraries turn me on,” she gasped quietly as my finger slipped beneath the lace and landed on her clit. 

I kissed her shoulder, “Libraries, huh?” I dipped my finger lower, teasing her, “Not handsome blondes who give you exactly what you want?” 

She stifled a small groan when I slipped a finger into her. “N-no,” She stammered and I slipped another finger into her. 

“ _No_?” I asked, “Are you telling me that I don’t get you all worked up?” 

I moved my thumb across her clit, my fingers buried deep inside her, curling against her. She turned her face into my shoulder and mumbled something I couldn’t make out. I kissed her temple, murmuring her name, and circled her clit again, wincing as she bit down through my shirt and into my skin. 

She rocked her hips and breathed my name, and the actuality of what we were doing hit me. This was Granger. _Hermione Granger_. With my fingers buried inside her. In, of all places, a library. I hadn’t planned it. I had certainly fantasised about it, but I hadn’t truly believed that she would allow me to do this. It was my office all over again. She shocked me then, and was doing the same now.  

“Alright?” I asked when she looked up at me, my fingers still moving slowly through her. 

She leaned back in and kissed my neck, just below my ear, and her breath was warm on my skin as she whispered, “More.” 

“Granger, fuck.” I pumped my fingers faster, circling her clit, pushing harder against her, her tiny sounds turning my cock to steel. 

I watched her face as she gasped, watched as she fought to keep quiet, watched mesmerised as she stared back at me and a quiet moan slipped through her lips. She was so smooth around my fingers, so warm and wet, so fucking tight. I stared at her lips, her eyes, and almost lost my composure as her tongue swept across her bottom lip. I wanted to cover her mouth with mine, wanted to taste her tongue, wanted to bite on her lip and hear her scream. 

I clenched my jaw, ignoring my own need, and slid my fingers deeper, harder, working my thumb in tight circles over her clit. Her fingernails dug into my arm, and another whispered moan left her, and I was sure that if anyone walked past us right now, they would most definitely know what we were doing. 

“Are you close?” I whispered against her jaw and she nodded, “Can you be quiet when you come?” 

She made a whimpering sound as she wriggled against my hand, and I moved my mouth to her ear, “The next time you come, it will be against my mouth.”

Her mouth opened in a gasp and she began to dissolve, her body shuddering, her climax tearing through her and rippling along my fingers.

“Perfect,” I whispered, my mouth still pressed against her ear. “So Fucking perfect.”

* * *

I was standing in front of her on her doorstep, so much wanting her to say to hell with the rules, and to invite me in. But I knew that wouldn’t happen. This was Granger, and despite my bending her rules, I knew she wouldn’t change her mind.  

She’d been stunning in her release, made more so by the fact that she had allowed me to touch her while we were in a place that I knew she looked upon with something akin to worship. Books and learning were synonymous with her, and during our days at school she would most often be found with her head in a book in the library. So I felt as though she had bestowed an exceptional gift to me, a gift that I would look upon with reverence.

And when I pulled my fingers from her body and pressed them discretely to my lips, reverence didn’t seem enough. Her taste had spread across my lips, across my tongue, and lingered in my mouth. And I knew that my words had rung true; she would definitely be coming all over my mouth. I was determined to do all I could to make it happen. 

“Were you impressed, Granger?” 

Her eyes lit up, “That library is stunning, Draco. It’s one of my favourites. Thank you for taking me.” 

I gripped her waist and ran my thumb across her hipbone, “It wasn’t the only stunning thing.”

Her cheeks flushed pink, “I can’t believe I let you do that.” 

“I think you enjoyed it more than you care to admit.” I stepped closer, leaving just inches between us. “Maybe next time—“ 

 “Next time, there will definitely be no sex.” 

I laughed, “That wasn’t sex, Granger. That was simply me touching you. You made no such rules against that.” 

She opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut, glaring at me. I lifted my hands to her face, leaning close. Her glare turned to surprise and she put her hand on my chest, “What are you doing?”

“You said nothing about kissing you goodnight either.” I wrapped my hand around her neck, drawing her to me, and kissing her deeply. She sighed against my mouth, wrapping her arms around my middle, and opened her lips without resistance when I brushed my tongue against her. The ease with which we kissed, with which we touched, with which we were simply in the same space, was a revelation. Something that was so unexpected, but so natural, it was almost too good to be true.

I smiled against her mouth and drew back. She stared up at me, and for a split second I saw in her eyes the want to stop this ridiculous game and drag me inside.  

But, instead she stepped back, smiling, and opened the door. “Good night, Draco.”

“Good night, Granger,” I winked at her, “It was a true pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I actually became a 'real' writer on this one. It's been forever since I've been to Trinity College in Dublin, and some research on the campus layout was needed to jog my memory, so that held things up...I hope I got it right :)
> 
> And what happened in the library?? Well, that wasn't my original plan. This chapter kind of took off in a whole other direction, but I'm much happier with it than my original idea. I certainly hope you all are too xx


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

 

 ****** HERMIONE ******  

* * *

 

I lay in the warmth of the room. My eyes were heavy, and I was so relaxed I was close to sleep. The muted sounds of the ocean, of birds, of a gentle breeze, were making it hard to stay awake. I felt like I was wrapped in a cocoon, warm and cosy, feeling completely sublime. 

I never did this. Never took time for myself, to simply relax and take care of myself. But in this case, I wasn’t given a choice. 

Two days after he’d brought me to orgasm in the library, a small package arrived in my office, much to the glee of Owen. Wrapped simply in brown paper, and tied again with an emerald green ribbon, he handed it to me when I arrived on Thursday morning, and looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to tear it open right in front of him. But since I had no idea what it contained, and Draco being Draco it could have been anything, there was no way he would see what it was until I knew. 

“You’re no fun,” he said with a pout, “After all that effort I put in, you could at least share  _something_  with me.”  

I laughed and patted his shoulder. “Owen, darling, you organised a ferry ride, Draco did the rest.”

“He would have been screwed if I hadn’t helped,” he paused and then raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow, “ _Did_  he get screwed?” 

“Not by me he didn’t,” l said. It wasn’t a lie; Draco’s fingers inside me wasn’t technically  _screwing_ _._   

Owen scowled, “You’re lying. I know you wouldn’t be able to resist him. I mean, seriously, who could?” 

I headed down the hallway to my office, calling back over my shoulder, “Maybe I just have more willpower than you.” 

“I hate you,” he yelled back.  

“I know,” I laughed, “Can I have my schedule, please?” 

I closed the door behind me and sat at my desk, turning the small package over and over in my hands, trying to guess what could possibly be inside it. I wasn’t quite as nervous about this as I was with the flowers on my doorstep. But, he had put his hands on me in the library, so this could be anything.  

I took a steadying breath and slowly untied the satin ribbon, the paper sliding apart to reveal a sleep mask. I picked it up and frowned, confused. I hadn’t the slightest clue what it could possibly be referring to.  

I turned it over and smiled. A piece of rolled up parchment was attached to the underside. I read the note, another in his perfect cursive; Saturday, 3.30pm at an address that I hadn’t recognised.

And that was how I now found myself at one of London’s most exclusive day spas, where I had spent two and half hours being soaked, scrubbed and massaged to perfection. My finger- and toenails were now painted in matching shades of a muted pearl-grey, and my skin was so smooth it felt like it was brand new.  

And now, as I relaxed in the comfort of the recliner lounge in yet another private room, I was left wondering just how on earth me spending time at a day spa on my own could be considered a date.  

A quiet knock sounded at the door, followed by a hushed voice. “Ms. Granger?” 

I hummed in response, it seemed it was I was capable of. 

“Mr. Malfoy asked that we give you these.”  I heard the smile in her voice and I lifted my head. She carefully laid a garment bag over the back of a chair, and placed a shoe box on the floor beside it. “Come out after you’ve showered and dressed, and we’ll organise your hair and make-up.” 

“Is he here?” I asked. 

She shook her head, “Not yet. He asked that we help you to get ready, and he’ll be here shortly. Please take your time though.”  She smiled as I nodded and then quietly closed the door. 

I smiled to myself, glancing at the garment bag. I was sure that they would be happy for me to take my time, certain that they would be more than pleased to have him to look at in the reception area when he arrived. I dropped my head back, closing my eyes, and hoped he didn’t have anything strenuous planned, I wasn’t sure I could even keep my eyes open for any length of time.  

I sighed, knowing that as much I would love to, I couldn’t lay here forever. 

With a monumental effort, I pushed myself to sit up, waiting a few beats until my head cleared of the dozy fuzz that had seemed to have become a permanent feature in my brain since I had arrived, and then stood.  

I unzipped the garment bag and pulled out what appeared to be a simple black satin A-line dress with a skirt that would sit just above my knees. A high neckline and beaded waist lent to the simplicity that made it stunning. But as I turned it around, my breath caught. The back was crisscrossed with fine satin ribbons, and the beads that were subtle across the front, followed around the back as it dipped and would sit low across my hips.  

I flipped open the shoe box, a pair of red-soled black strappy heels were housed inside it and it occurred to me that between the dress and the shoes, and the young girl telling me that my hair and make-up had been organised, we were headed somewhere formal.  

And suddenly I was very awake, another thought occurring to me.  

I peered back into the garment bag and grinned. I had arrived, as per his instructions, in jeans and a jumper. Nothing fancy, just plain and comfortable, and had assumed that I would be headed straight home afterwards. Which meant _plain and comfortable_ went right down to my skin. But it seemed that my comfy boy-leg knickers would not be needed, he had so  _thoughtfully_ included underwear.  

I held them up and shook my head, knowing exactly what he was thinking when he bought them. 

The front was a small oval of pale blue silk, embellished with fine, exquisite embroidery. A series of strappy lace bands that would wind around my hips crossed over at the back and created a cut-out effect where it would sit on my tailbone and leave most of my backside bare. 

They were so pretty, and my heart almost leaped through my chest not wanting to think about how much the tiny piece of silk and lace I was holding cost, when I saw the label; _Agent Provocateur_. 

I imagined him buying these, imagined the sales assistants fawning over him, imagined him ignoring them because he was Draco Malfoy and he would have already known what he wanted. I did wonder, however, how it was that he knew the name, how he even knew where to buy them - or at least I hoped it was him that bought them and not Owen - but I guessed that since he had already surprised me with a muggle day spa, underwear wasn’t that much of a stretch.  

But as pretty as they were, I was also determined that he wasn’t going to see me in them. Not tonight anyway. I had let down my guard in Dublin, had let him break my rules and touch me. And even though I had wanted it - had wanted it more than anything - this time I would resist.  

I showered quickly, not really wanting to. The scrubs and lotions and oils that had been applied to my skin throughout the afternoon, smelled divine, and I didn’t want to lose their scent or the satin feel of them on my skin. So I washed my hair quickly, and stepped out to dry off.  

My new knickers were so surprisingly comfortable - which led me to wonder how he knew my size - and when I twisted to see the back of them in the mirror, I loved how they fitted so well to the curves of my hips and backside. And for a fleeting moment, I was mildly disappointed that he wouldn’t see me in them. 

I picked up the dress, and it felt like liquid as it slid over my freshly cleaned skin, and again, it was a perfect fit. And I chuckled when I slid my feet into the shoes.  

 _Magic_ , I thought, and then corrected myself. This was Draco, and his with determination to impress me, he would have gotten the fit right  _without_  magic. 

I shoved my other clothes into the empty garment bag and gave myself one more glance in the mirror. The dress was perfect, and I loved the feel of it as it brushed across my bare skin with every movement I made. 

“Let me take that,” the young girl said surprising me as I stepped out of the room. She hurriedly took the bag from me and the ushered me down the hall and into another room, where I was greeted by another smiling face.  

“Ms Granger, if you would take a seat?” The second woman held out her hand, and I sat where she indicated, and then she went to work on my hair, blow drying it and pinning it back, leaving it to hang to one side in a cascade of curls over my shoulder. And once my makeup was done, I barely recognised myself in the mirror. My eyes appeared to be huge, my lips were full, and my skin was flawless.  

The door opened, and I didn’t miss the swoony look in the girl’s eyes when she informed me that, “Mr Malfoy is here.” 

I thanked them both for taking such wonderful care of me, and then stood, smoothing my hands down my dress. I took a breath and wondered what the night held for me.

 

* * *

 

Draco stood from his chair the second I appeared in the foyer. His eyes went wide, and then a smile broke out, lighting up his face, and I took the chance to take him in as he crossed to where I stood. 

He had traded his usual black for charcoal-grey. His trousers were tailored to fit him perfectly, his waistcoat hugged his torso and the sleeves of light grey shirt he wore beneath it were rolled up to show off the muscles in his forearms. The top two buttons on his shirt were undone, and it took all I had to not lean forward and lick his bared skin.

And his hair was a complete freshly-fucked mess. And I knew that he’d put no effort at all into it – had probably woken up this morning looking like that - and it still managed to make my nipples tighten at the sight of it.

“Hi,” he said, his eyes not leaving me, not looking around to see how many women were staring at him. Because they were staring at him, and the wave of jealousy that I often felt when it came to him flared in my chest.

“Hi.” I said a little breathlessly, shoving the jealous feeling aside; he was here for me. Only me. 

“You look amazing.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, then ran his fingers down my bare arm, “You feel amazing too.” 

“Thank you.” I looked down at my dress then back up at him, “For everything, really. This might have been too much.” 

“Good day then?” He asked and held out his arm. 

I looped my hand around his elbow and let him lead me towards the exit. “Brilliant day,” I told him, “But I’m not sure how this constitutes a date, when it was just me.” 

“Maybe I’ll join you next time.” He smiled at me and I rolled my eyes. I could see exactly what he was thinking; me, naked, having my skin scrubbed, and him watching as it happened.  

“Well, _this_ next time came around fairly quickly,” I quirked an eyebrow, “Technically, this is two dates in one week.”  

“I had hoped you wouldn’t notice.” He laughed, “But tonight was already arranged months ago, I hope that’s okay.”  

“You planned this months ago?”  

“Not this part of it, not you,” He shook his head and then held up his free hand in apology, “Sorry, I meant, where we’re headed, I was invited to months ago. I had  _hoped_ you would be on my arm,” he grinned at me, “So maybe this was meant to be.” 

“ _Smooth_ ,” I said, shaking my head and laughing, “And will everyone know us at this place?”  

“No, I will be a new face there,” he assured me, “But no one will be looking at me anyway.”  

I looked away, blushing. The filthy innuendo I was used to, but his charm was something new, and the sincerity it held had my insides turning to liquid.  

We stepped out onto the pavement and he had yet another surprise for me. I had expected him to lead me to a dark alley and disapparate us to our destination, but instead he indicated a rather fancy silver car. I looked at the logo and my eyes went wide; a Bentley. Apparently it was only the best for a Malfoy.

“You drive?” I asked completely astounded.  

He laughed, “Merlin, no!! I’m still not sure it’s safe to get into one of these,” He nodded towards the car, “We have a driver.” 

“Oh,” I said feeling my cheeks heat up at my own foolishness; clearly the man standing beside the car would be driving us.  

“Good evening, Ms Granger, Mr Malfoy,” the man smiled and opened the door.  

Draco stood waiting for me, and I smiled, carefully climbing into the car and sliding across the seat, my eyes going wide at the opulent interior; the soft leather seats, the dark wood panelling, the space to stretch out. It was simply beautiful, and going by the look on Draco’s face when he finally climbed inside, he thought the same.

“Owen?” I asked as we pulled away from the kerb.

“Owen.” He confirmed and I shot him a questioning look. 

“Is this the  _only_  thing he helped with?”

Draco frowned for a second and then a sly smile crept across his face when he realised my meaning. He touched a finger to my hip. “I did  _not_  need help with anything else.”  

I moved closer to him, reaching for his hand and slipped my fingers between his, lowering my voice. “Good, because he already thinks you’ve seen me naked, I don’t need him thinking that you would be doing anything _provocative_ with me tonight.”

“ _Provocative_ , huh?” The sly smile still danced on his lips, “I’d had no such thought.” 

“Oh, well that’s good,” I matched his smile with one of my own, “My own underwear is _so_ comfortable and not provocative in the least.” 

He leaned his mouth close to my ear, and his voice was low, almost dark, when he said, “I know you’re wearing them.”

“That’s very presumptuous of you,” I said, telling myself to remain calm, to not let him know what his breath on my neck was doing to me. “You shouldn’t assume anything about me.”

“I haven’t assumed anything, Granger,” He kissed my neck, “You wouldn’t be able to resist feeling that lace on your skin. And besides, blue is your favourite colour.”

I pulled my head back and looked at him. His sly smile was gone, replaced with a genuine one, one that made me think he was more invested in me – in us – than I had truly believed. It was a smile that said he knew me, that he had taken the time to learn about me. Not just the obvious things, but the little things, the things that maybe no one else knew about.

He lifted our linked hands and pressed his lips to my fingers, “Alright?” 

I nodded, and turned to look out the window. We were moving through the traffic, but the inside of the car had grown suddenly very still. 

I felt his lips on my shoulder, “What did I say?”  

I shook my head and turned back to him. “Nothing.”  

“I don’t believe you,” he said with a look of concern in his eyes. 

I swallowed thickly, a sudden surge of emotions hitting me. I took a few steadying breaths, and then smiled.  

“You know me.” I whispered and his concern turned to confusion at my words. I gently touched his cheek. “Thank you.” 

He kissed my temple, “You’re welcome?”  

I laughed, “I just mean that you continually surprise me at how thoughtful you truly are.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered conspiratorially and then puffed out his chest, “You’ll ruin my image.” 

“Too late,” I chuckled at his posturing, “Three more dates and everyone will know how kind, and sweet, and thoughtful you really are.” 

He smirked at me and my heartbeat picked up at the realisation of what I had just said. I had all but confirmed that we would be together after all this, that he really didn’t have to impress me, that I was already in deep with him.  

“Don’t get cocky, Malfoy,” I turned and kissed his jaw, “You know exactly where this is headed, and you’re in as deep as I am. But you don’t get out of having to impress me.” 

 

* * *

 

 

We made our way across the square, and I squeezed his hand tightly. The National Gallery stood boldly in front of us, and I hoped that was where we were headed.  

“There’s a private function for patrons of The Gallery,” Draco explained as we ascended the steps, “I hope you like art.”  

“I thought you said you knew me.” I teased. 

He paused at the top of the steps, reaching out to twist a strand of my hair through his fingers, staring intently at me. “I do know you, but...” 

I waited for him to elaborate, but he simply looked at me. “Draco?” 

 “Granger, libraries are your place of solitude, this is mine.” He dropped is hand from my hair and looked down at his feet.  

“Draco,” I said quietly and gently tilted is face back to look at me, “You can keep this for yourself. You don’t have to take me in there.”  

“No, I want to. It’s just,” he grabbed the back of his neck nervously, a gesture that I had come to love, “I just kind of...when I look at the paintings....I..."

“You zone out and the rest of the world ceases to exist?” I finished for him.

His eyes went wide and he nodded, “Yeah. I guess that’s the best way to explain it, so I apologise in advance if you’re not the focus of my attention tonight.”

I took his hand in mine, “I love this gallery. My parents used to bring me here all the time when I was a child. I would sit and stare at one painting for so long they thought I had gone into a trance.”

We moved towards the entrance and he reached into his waistcoat, pulling out what appeared to be an invitation. The guard nodded, and allowed us through.

“Which painting?” Draco asked when we were inside, he headed to the right, clearly knowing where he was going.

“Van Gogh’s  _Sunflowers_.” I replied without having to think. “Cliché, I know, but I love his work. Degas and Cezanne, Renoir. And I love Seurat’s drawings. _Oh!_ And Monet.” 

He looked at me amused, _“_ You must have been a zombie when your parents managed to drag you away from here. _”_

“I was,” I laughed and looped my arm through his. “And I know how you feel Draco, I get as lost in the works as you do.”

We rounded a corner and I gripped his arm tighter. There were maybe a hundred other people milling around the large space, talking, laughing, and plucking glasses of wine and appetisers from trays being offered around the room.  

He closed his hand over mine, “It’s alright, no one here is magical. It’s why I donate to this gallery. It’s one of the few in Britain that doesn’t have any links to our world. I can come here and not be bothered by prying eyes wondering what I’m up to.” 

“I think you know more about the muggle world than you care to admit. Muggle art galleries, luxury cars, ferry boats...” 

“I frequent this gallery often,” he said. “But that ferry boat? And the car? They were both a first for me.”  

“Maybe, but your  _special privileges_ at Trinity College make me think that you spend more time away from  _your_  world, and more time in  _mine_.” 

He chuckled, “Do you really believe that Trinity doesn’t hold some magic in it?” 

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I was speechless. How had I not known that? 

“Hmm, interesting,” he mused, “You know nothing of Trinity’s history? And here I thought you were the brightest witch and all.” 

I scowled playfully at him and he laughed.  

“Granger, with all the magical lore in Ireland, how did you not realise?”

“Maybe,” I stared pointedly at him, “Someone distracted me.”

He grinned and took two glasses from a passing waiter and handed one to me, “Maybe, you liked being distracted.” 

I was about to respond, to tell him that he would _not_ be distracting me tonight, but we were interrupted. 

“Draco,” a gentleman, who I guessed to be in his early fifties, greeted him, “I was concerned you weren’t coming.”

Draco shook his hand and smiled, and then surprised me once more with his response. “Stuck in traffic, I’m afraid. Heavier than usual on The Mall.” He pressed his hand to my lower back, and introduced us, “Gabriele, this is my good friend Hermione Granger, and this is Dr. Gabriele Finaldi, the director of the gallery.”

He took my hand and kissed it, a gesture that had Draco’s hand tightening on my back. “Lovely to meet you Ms Granger, and it’s a pleasure to have you at The Gallery. Do you like art, or are you just here to ensure Draco doesn’t look like a loner?” 

I laughed, clearly the two were well acquainted, “Both, I guess. My parents used to bring me here regularly as a child, I would have lived here if I could.” 

“ _Ah!_  Excellent to hear.” His smile was warm and friendly, “And your favourite?” 

“The Impressionists mostly. Van Gogh, for sure,” I told him, “But also Cezanne, Seurat. Degas.” I shrugged, “Monet. I could go on.”

“Yes, it’s hard to choose,” Grabriele held his palms up, looking wistful, “Draco, be sure to take her to level two. I’m sure she’ll be impressed.” 

I choked on my wine at his innocent turn of phrase, and glanced at Draco. His face remained passive, but I could see in his eyes what he was thinking.

“Thank you,” Draco said, “I’ll be sure to show her.” 

Gabriele clapped him on the shoulder, “Now, mingle, meet our other supporters.” He smiled at as both once more, “And please enjoy your evening.” 

“Do not even think about it,” I said as Gabriele moved to greet another guest.  

“I’m not thinking anything,” Draco said, “And I’m certainly not thinking of touching you in front of your favourite painting.” 

I closed my eyes for several seconds, pushing away the image of his hands on me again. “Good,” I said when I opened them again, “Because it’s not happening.” 

He lifted his glass to his lips, “Yeah, you say that.”

 

* * *

 

 

I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and I turned to see Draco smiling at me. 

We’d gotten separated as we’d mingled, conversed, and laughed with the other donors in the room. But I had known that he was still watching me closely, had felt his eyes on me, had felt a stirring inside when I looked up to see him several feet away, winking at me.

And I was more than impressed at how Draco fielded the same questions about how it was that someone so young was already a highly regarded philanthropist and donor to the gallery. He merely passed it off as being so intrigued by art, but I knew it as more.

Trinity College, with its apparent magical history, made sense, but a purely muggle art gallery? This was as much about his love of art as it was about his blood-purist guilt. I could see in his face as he spoke with other art lovers just how much he appreciated The Gallery, but I also saw what they didn’t; his want to know them, his want to be apologetic for actions they knew nothing about. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” He dropped a kiss to my shoulder and smiled guiltily at the people I was talking with. “But do you mind if I steal her away?” 

They all smiled, looking at us like we were the most delightful breath of fresh air that they had seen at one of these stuffy events in an age. 

He took my hand and led me towards the doors. We headed the same direction that we had come, but this time as we reached the entrance, he turned in the opposite direction and we went up the stairs. He seemed to know his way around The Gallery so well, it led me to wonder just how often he came here.

“Where are you taking me?” 

He simply smiled and kept walking, dragging me past several works that I would have loved to have stopped and looked at. 

“Here,” He finally said and nodded towards the Van Gogh painting I so loved. 

“More privileges?” 

“I may have pulled a few strings.” 

I had seen it many times, had sat staring at it for more hours than I cared to admit. But I had never seen it like this; in an empty gallery, without crowds and noise. It was just the two of us. Draco’s hands resting on my hips, his warm body pressed against my back. 

“I’ve seen it a thousand times, Draco, but this time is now my most favourite.” 

He kissed my neck, “I’m glad I could do this for you.” 

I turned to face him and pressed my hand over his heart, “I don’t think this was all just for me.”

“I love so few things, but art is one of them.” He said quietly. “Gabriele has become an excellent contact and has been brilliant in keeping me up to date on new exhibits all over London.”

“Will you show me your favourite?”

“Of course.” He linked our fingers once more and walked me through the silent rooms, stopping when we reached another familiar work.

“Monet.” I whispered, surprised yet again. I had expected something angry, bold. What I did not expect was the soft, quiet painting in front of me. 

“Monet,” he agreed.

“Why this one?” I stepped closer. It was _Snow Scene at Argenteuil,_ with its blues and greys, and light and shade, with touches of warmer reds and greens. It was perfection.

“It’s bleak, and cold, but at the same time it gives a sense of calm,” He stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the painting, “And the figures in the centre make it feel simple, like friends crossing paths and casually chatting despite the freezing snow.” He leaned closer, “It’s like there’s always an end to the hardship. It won’t be forever, so it doesn’t bother them.” 

I was rendered speechless again – it seemed to be becoming a common occurrence when he was near me. My entire day had been unexpected, but the look of awe on his face, and the way he described the painting, was by far the most unexpected thing of all. 

I took a step back, and the truth behind his words hit me. _The hardship won’t be forever, there is always an end._   For all the smiles, and the laughter, and the new face of Draco Malfoy, some of the anger and hurt was still just under the surface. 

I waited quietly while he stood staring at the painting. He had told me that this was his place of solitude, and I could see that the longer he stood there, the more his shoulders relaxed. And while there was anger still there, this was how he dealt with it; quiet reflection with something that would occupy his mind and push just a little more of the hurt and anger out.

A smile curved at his lips and he held his hand out. I took it and he pulled me into his side. 

“It’s always there,” He murmured into my hair, “The anger. I’m just better at controlling it now.”

I wrapped my arms around his middle, “The art, and coming here, helps?” 

“It does.” He tightened his arm around me, “Gabriele has been kind enough to let me come here after hours on more than a few occasions. I think he sees what you see.” 

I looked up at him, “And what is it that we see?” 

“A tormented soul who doesn’t always ask for help,” He kissed my forehead, “I’m almost as stubborn as you are.” 

“Almost,” I agreed and kissed his cheek, “Thank you for sharing this with me.” 

 He smiled down at me and I felt his hand slip to my arse. I shot him an incredulous look and pulled his hand away. 

“ _Ah_ , I’m fairly certain I said this wouldn’t be happening. No matter how tortured your soul is.”

“It was worth a shot.” He lifted my hand to his lips and dropped a kiss to my palm. “Are you ready to go home?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco bent and kissed me. It was sweet and gentle and full, and my chest constricted with need. I ran my hands up his chest, cupping his jaw when he pulled away,

“Do you want to come inside,” I asked. My voice was hoarse and even I could hear the desperation in it. But he had one last surprise in store for me.

“No,” he said quietly. “Not tonight.” 

“But isn’t that what you want?”

“It is what I want,” He pressed a finger to my lips when I started to respond. “But you will regret it.” 

I frowned and he pressed his lips against mine again, which did nothing to suppress the heat growing inside me. 

“Granger, these rules of yours, if you break them you will be sorry, and I don’t want that.” 

“I won’t be sorry,” I said sounding like a petulant child, “It’s what I want too.” 

“I know,” He said and ran his hand down my side causing my breath to catch when his fingers traced over the curve of my breast. “But you need to trust me on this.” 

I curled into him and ran my hand up his neck and into his hair, tugging gently. “I don’t need to trust you, because I know what I want.” 

He looked at me, indecision in his eyes. He kissed me again, this time with firm, commanding lips. I parted my own lips and let him press his tongue against mine, sighing into his mouth as his hands gripped my hips, pulling me roughly against him. I felt him hard against my stomach, and I reached back, fumbling for the door handle. 

But he stopped me, pulling away from both my mouth and my body.  “Not tonight, Granger,” He traced his thumb over my lips and then pressed it to his own. “When we do this, it will be after I’ve impressed you to the point where no one else will ever be enough for you.” 

He kissed me one last time, quickly, as if knowing that if he lingered, he would surely follow me inside. He stepped back and winked at me, making me grin, and disappeared.

I stared at the spot he had vanished from for a long minute and then let myself into my flat. I climbed the stairs on shaky legs, wondering if I would actually make it to the top. His kiss managed to turn me into a shuddering mess once more.

I carefully slipped out of my shoes and dress, and then picked up the tank and shorts I usually slept in. But as my fingers traced over the lace bands across my hips, I tossed them back to the floor and crawled under the covers in just the knickers that he’d given me. 

I lay staring at the ceiling. I had not lied to him when I told him I intended to tell everyone the extent of his ability to be kind, and thoughtful, and to show emotions that I never thought I would ever see in him. I always thought him capable; his temper in our teen years let me know that he was passionate and intense. Of course, in those days, it was always anger and hatred, but seeing him interact with people he once would never have even taken the time to spit on, seeing him looking at the artworks, seeing him allow himself to enjoy something that was probably considered frivolous in his old world, gave me a sense of just how much he had changed. 

I let out a slow breath. It had been an awful lot of trouble on his behalf to organise my afternoon for me, and I had assumed that he would of course try to get handsy with me again. I was sure that was his intention but him saying _no,_ had confused me. 

And then it hit me, and a slow smile made its way across my face. 

He had deliberately taken his time, had not gone with me to the spa so I would be pliant and malleable. Had met there with a smile and car and had done this in a way that – like the ferry – I was yet again not expecting. He had slowly built me up over the evening - small touches on my arm and back, whispering to me, dropping sweet kisses on my shoulder - and I had given him exactly what he had wanted. I asked him in, and in doing so had let him know that my rules were truly a joke. That I was just putting off the inevitable. 

But, in the thoughtful manner he had, he was also ensuring that on these dates I would only be focused on him, on what he was doing. Ensuring that I was making the right choice and not regretting for one minute that at the end of it, we _would_ be together. 

I rolled to one side, pulling the covers up to my chin, grinning like an idiot. We would be together. Him and Me. He knew it. I knew it.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t mess with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another big research chapter...although, maybe some of the paintings and artists mentioned might be my favourites :)
> 
> Thanks for reading and sticking with me xx


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

******* DRACO *******

* * *

 

I paused with my hand on the door. Almost a week had gone by and I'd not seen her. I honestly wasn't sure of the protocol in our situation. She'd been clear in her dating rules, but had said nothing in regards to the days between. But since I'd already pushed the boundaries and managed two dates in the first week, I had forced myself to hold off.

She'd sent an owl on Monday, and I got ridiculously more excited than I should have. But much to my dismay it was nothing sordid or wicked, just simply a confirmation of the ingredients that we had requested.

But on Tuesday morning a parcel was waiting on my desk. A simple square with a bright red ribbon, wrapped so precisely that it could only be from one person.

I sat at my desk, my heart racing, and I realised this was what it probably had been like for her. The flowers, the sleep mask; she'd had no idea what surprise had lay behind the parchment and the paper. And now, the same feeling hit me. I wanted to tear it open, see what she had sent, but at the same time I was nervous.

The way I had left her on Saturday, the way she had almost begged me to follow her into her flat, the look of disappointment in her eyes when I had said _no,_ left me to wonder if I had made a mistake. It had all been too tempting, almost too hard to say that one word. But I was also sure that had I followed her, had we fallen into her bed, she would have most definitely regretted it.

Not the sex, but she would have regretted letting me win.

Of course, this wasn't a game, far from it. It was exactly where I wanted to be and I was most serious about doing it right. But it would have been a win in her mind, and she would hold onto that until it burned her and she walked away from me.

I had gingerly tugged at the ribbon, letting it slowly fall apart, then peeled back the paper, and my pulse went into overdrive.

It was a frame, made of a beautifully dense, dark wood, with the images of lions and snakes carved into the sides. But as intricate and beautiful as the frame was, what sent my pulse racing was the picture it held; it was her hip. And the blue lace that she had insisted that I not see against her skin.

I stared at it, unable to look anywhere but at the three tiny freckles that dotted her creamy skin just above where the lace curved over her hip bone. It was a teasing glimpse of what I had missed, of what I craved, of what I wanted more than anything else in this world to see.

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, not imagining my tongue sliding over the three tiny spots. Certainly not imagining where the lace on those knickers met at the base of her spine and disappeared between the cheeks of her arse.

I groaned, opening my eyes to stare once more at the image that would haunt me for the next month.

I opened my desk draw, put the picture away, and then slammed it shut. I squeezed my eyes closed again, and then pulled the draw open, grabbing the frame and shoved it into my leather satchel; I would be taking it home to stare at until my body exploded.

But the torture didn't end there.

Wednesday brought another parcel, another square, another red ribbon, another racing pulse. However, this time I didn't wait. I tore into it and my heart almost stopped. The frame was identical, but the picture it housed was even more than I had dared to image she would send. It was a picture of her stomach, with her fingertips disappearing beneath the edge of the embroidered silk in the lower half of the frame.

And Thursday it was a hint of her breast, and the blue lace that cut a diagonal line across her skin matched that of the lace on the underwear I had given her, meaning that she had now had the set, which had the image of her sprawled on my bed wearing nothing but blue lace on a continual loop in my head, and in turn meant a day-long problem in my pants.

But today had been the worst. My expectations had been high, hoping that she might give me a glimpse of something  _more._ But disappointment hit my chest with a thud when I saw that my desk was empty.

And now, I stood on the threshold, nervously wondering what she had in store.

I pushed the door and the din of the pub hit me. It was Friday night and the place was packed. The after-work crowd seemed more so than ever to fill the space to the rafters, and I had to push my way through the throng of people to get to the firewhiskey that was already waiting for me at my usual place at the table full of my friends.

"Glad you could join us." Blaise said with a hint of sarcasm as I collapsed back into the chair beside Ginny.

"Sod off," I told him good naturedly, although good-natured was the furthest thing I felt. Her usual spot was empty, which made me nervous. The pictures she had sent – the muggle pictures that didn't move - had me keyed up and my nerves on edge. My nightstand had been cleared and now only held those three images. And I had lay in bed each night staring at them until my eyes grew so tired I couldn't see. And now her absence had my pulse thumping, wondering what she was up to.

I picked up my drink and tipped it towards Blaise, shoving down the nervous feeling in my gut; it would do me no good if our friends even suspected I was agonising over her absence. "If my business partner didn't piss off early on a Friday, I might have gotten here sooner."

He grinned, "Your business partner didn't piss off early, he simply got sick of waiting for you to stop kissing arse and end your stupid floo meeting."

"Kiss-arse and Malfoy?" Potter said from across the table, "Are you even allowed to say those words together?"

Blaise laughed, "You are if it's the truth."

"Maybe I should have fucking stayed at work." I scowled and then nodded casually in the direction of Granger's empty chair, "I'm not the only one who's late. Where's the other kiss-arse?"

I felt a light slap on the back of my head, "She's right here."

I looked up and my breath caught.

_Well, shit._

Granger really  _was_  a tease.

She was wearing  _that_ dress. The dress that I had half stripped from her two weeks ago. It was in no way provocative or flashy - just a simple black dress - but the way it sat perfectly on her, hugging every curve and accentuating what I now knew to be the most perfect set of tits, and had me glad for the fact that my lower half was hidden beneath the table.

She greeted everyone with her usual easy smile, and sat in the chair opposite me, casually leaning her forearms onto the table, looking at me with eyes that told me she was well aware of what she was doing. The neckline of her dress seemed lower as her arms pressed her breasts together, and the hint of emerald green lace that flashed as her dress shifted had me wanting to forget about my chivalry, throw her onto the table, and remind her of what we had done the last time she was wearing that dress.

Her eyes dropped to the glass in front of her watching as it slowly filled, and, I wasn't sure that if it was because I had now seen her in a different light, but I couldn't help but notice that in the dim light of the crowded pub, she seemed to glow. I also couldn't help but notice the looks she was getting from the other patrons in the pub, and a sense of possessiveness that I had never known before curled down my spine.

She sipped her drink, her tongue poking out to catch a drip before it rolled down her chin. My cock twitched, and I fought to keep my face straight.  _Tease_ might not have been the right word to describe her right now. _Femme Fatal_ may have been more apt.

"So," Weasley said from the end of the table, "Now that you're both here, is there anything the two of you want to tell us?"

I looked at Granger who merely shrugged, obviously having no clues either as to what he was referring to.

I frowned at him, "In reference to...?"

Pansy tossed a newspaper in our direction, "In reference to that."

I glanced down at it - noting that it was a muggle newspaper - and my heart leapt into my throat when I realised what was in front of me; a picture of Granger and me, at The National Gallery. Fortunately, it was a picture with another patron in between us laughing at something she had said. But nonetheless it was us. Together.

"Where did you get this?" I tried to keep my voice even, but failed.

"Harry likes to read it," Pansy said, flinging her arm around Potters shoulder and landing a kiss on his cheek, and I wanted to smack the smug grin off his face. "And we love him all the more for it."

I looked at Granger, her face was unchanged. She picked up the paper, scanning it and then looked at me, rolling her eyes.

"See," she tossed the newspaper casually back onto the table, "I knew we should have told them."

Ginny let out tiny squeak, and I looked over to her to see she was patting her hands together quietly and was almost shaking with delight.

"Don't get excited Gin," Granger said, pulling my attention back to her. She looked at Pansy and smirked, "We did _not_ get naked and fuck."

I almost choked. She wasn't lying, but I had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

She huffed out an exasperated breath of air, "Draco asked if I would go with him to some stuffy function he had been invited to so he didn't look like a loser without a date. That's all."

Pansy's attention turned to me, "Why Hermione? Why not one of the thousands of other women you know?"

"I, ah," I stumbled, "That is to say...um..."

Granger reached across the table, and patted my arm in an almost condescending manner, "It's okay Draco. You don't have to be embarrassed." She turned to the six staring faces, "It was a muggle function. And although he's much more acquainted with them, poor Draco was nervous about being around the weird non-magical folk, so he asked me to go with him. You know, me being a mudblood, and all."

I winced at the term. I hated it, and was sorry that I had ever used it.

"But surely one of those women you know is a muggle. You could have taken one of them." Ginny countered, digging for more than what Granger was giving them.

"No," I said, finally seeing what Granger was doing. She wasn't denying that we  _were_  there together, but she  _was_ also denying that we were there _together._ "The only other person I know that grew up in the muggle world is Potter. And I don't think you want me taking your husband to an art gallery, Pans. I mean, what would people think?"

Granger snorted a laugh and looked at Potter, "Harry, can you  _please_ go with him next time? I want to read that story."

"I'm with Granger on this," Blaise said and laughed with her, "I can see the headline now;  _Potter leaves Parkinson for Malfoy. The world ends."_ He yelped and jumped back in his chair; clearly Pansy had kicked him under the table.

"Not funny, Zabini," Pansy snarked and then turned back to Granger. "So this wasn't a date?"

She shook her head, "Sorry to disappoint you all, but no." She smiled at me and I felt her foot slide against my leg under the table. "Just a friend needing some help."

"It  _is_ disappointing," Ginny said, screwing her face up and scowling at us both, "We'd hoped for more."

"More of what, Gin?" Granger asked and I almost choked as she pressed her foot into my groin, teasing me as she slid her toe along my rapidly growing cock.

"We thought this meant something had finally happened between you." Daphne said.

"No," She said, pressing her foot harder against me and I had to stifle my groan. "We're still just friends. Isn't that right, Draco?"

I smiled across the table at her and wrapped my hand around her ankle, holding her foot against me. I wanted to tell them all the truth - that we were more than just friends, that we had already fucked, that Granger currently had her foot pressed against my cock. But I knew that if I uttered one word, I would be out of action for a month; she was pressing her foot down harder, a pleasure-pain that was as uncomfortable as it was arousing.

"Just friends, Granger," I agreed, and then shrugged, "Of course, it could be more if you wanted." A tiny muscle in her cheek twitched and she tried to pull her foot away but I held her firmly. "I keep telling you that you don't know what you're missing, I mean,  _all_ those women couldn't be wrong."

"And why would you assume that I'm missing anything?" Her voice was even but the look of jealousy in her eyes at the prospect of me with another woman made me smile.

"Because you're always so tense." I slid my thumb along the arch of her foot, not missing the way she jumped slightly at my touch. I winked at her and she scowled, pressing her foot down hard against me and I instantly released her from my grip.

The groan that went around the table made me grin. They had watched this game play out every Friday night in the pub for the past year, the verbal back and forth between us, the innuendo, and I was sure that they all assumed that Granger and I would have either killed each other by now, or fallen into bed and not yet come up for air.

"Pansy's right," Potter looked between the both of us, "You  _should_ get naked and fuck."

"I never thought I'd say this, but Potter's right," I swallowed the remaining scotch in my glass and placed it upside-down on the table, a clear indication that I was done drinking. "We can leave right now and I can rid you of some of that tension."

She rolled her eyes, and she began to move her foot across me, side to side, in an excruciatingly slow motion that I was sure that would have me coming in my pants in minutes. "I'm not leaving with you, Malfoy."

I shifted slightly, discretely tilting my hips forward and silently asking her for more. "That's too bad, Granger," I managed to say as she gave me what I wanted, "We could have gone back to my place and shagged until we both passed out."

"No," Weasley said and held up his hand, a look of revulsion on his face. " _No._ This game that you two play is fun and all, but please stop."

A laugh went around the table, but unbeknown to them all, Granger didn't stop. Instead her foot sped up, causing my insides to curl and pushing me closer and closer to release. And the amused look on her face told me she knew it also.

Ginny patted my arm, and looked at me in mock sympathy, "Poor Draco, after all this time and effort your balls will stay a lovely shade of Ravenclaw blue."

They all erupted in laughter again, and Ginny had no idea how close to the truth she was; my cock was hard and my balls were painfully tight.

I grabbed Granger's foot, holding it in place as a small grunt left me and I braced my spine against the chair in an attempt to stop myself from thrusting my hips forward. I tried to control my breathing, tried to keep my face neutral, while the conversation swirled around me. But I knew that even if my life depended on it, I could not have relayed what they were saying, I was far too focused on her foot pressed against me.

I glanced around the table, hoping that my face was calm, hoping that I wasn't giving anything away. Fortunately the conversation continued and it seemed that none of them was aware of how close I was to coming undone.

Granger had looked away, listening to something Pansy was saying, but the innocent way she was biting her lip and the pink tinge in her cheeks told me she had no idea what the conversation was about either.

I swallowed - fighting back the urge to grab her hand and apparate us away - and circled her ankle with my fingertips. Her eyes darted to me and then quickly away again, but I didn't miss her biting back a smile as she pulled her foot away, well aware that she had almost made me come in my pants.

"Are you coming, Malfoy?"

My head whipped to Blaise, who was looking at me expectantly. " _What?"_

I saw Granger from the corner of my eye press her curled fingers to her mouth to hide her smug grin.

"Tomorrow night, Falcons playing the Kestrels, are you coming?"

"No," I said and ran the tip of my shoe along Grangers leg, "I already have plans."

He raised an eyebrow, "Do these plans involve the mystery woman that you've secretly been seeing?"

I resisted the urge to look at Granger, lest I give us away completely. "Mystery woman? How much have you let him drink, Ginny?"

"Don't try to deny it, Malfoy." She said, "Blaise tells me that you've been sneaking out of work in the middle of the day. What's with that?"

"Nothing's with  _that,_ " I said, "And I haven't been sneaking out of work, it was one time."

She looked at me with a shit-eating grin on her face, "So there _is_ someone then?"

Pansy looked directly at Granger, her face concerned, and then she turned on me. "You're seeing someone and you didn't tell anyone?"

I looked at Granger, "Apparently I'm supposed to tell them everything."

She smiled and tilted her head to one side, "Well, I told you they'd be pissed if they didn't know."

I turned back to them, "Sorry. I really should have told you all," I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut, letting out a long, slow breath. I opened my eyes and laughed at their shocked faces. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm  _not_ seeing anyone."

"Fucker," Blaise muttered, but the girls all looked somewhat relieved.

"So you're not sneaking out to see anyone?" Pansy asked, looking at Granger again.

I held my hands up and rolled my eyes, "That's what I said."

"So what's with the sneaking out then?" Ginny asked.

"Granger needed something to wear to the art gallery thing, and I refused to let her pay, since it was me who invited her, so I met with her, that's all," I shrugged one shoulder, and looked past Ginny to glare at Blaise, "And I wasn't aware that I had to check my every move with you."

"Business partners," He said.

"Who piss of early on Friday's," I countered.

"Touché," He said and pointed a finger at me, laughing. "So everyone except Malfoy and Granger then?"

"Why not me?" Granger asked and we all looked at her in stunned amazement. She hated Quidditch and made no apologies for it.

"Because you hate it," Potter said, looking as confused as I felt. Clearly my reference to  _plans_  involved her. In fact, our next date confirmation was waiting on her doorstep.

"Maybe I've changed my mind."

"Oh,  _ah_ , well fine," Blaise sounded as stunned as the rest of us, "I guess Granger's in as well."

"Oh my god, you people are so easy!" She laughed and ducked as Weasley tossed a scrunched up napkin at her. "I have plans also. Plans that include wine and a bath and a book."

My cock that had finally deflated jumped back to life at the image of her naked in the bath, and I wondered if she would agree to me joining her and having that as our third date. I glanced quickly up at her and caught her smile, then felt her toe beneath the leg of my trousers, and I knew that she was aware that my plans definitely included her.

And while she looked completely composed, the deep rise and fall of her chest indicated she was eager to leave and see what was waiting for her. But I beat her to it.

I rapped my knuckles on the table and let out an exhausted sigh, "Sorry to leave early, but I'm done. This week has been hell." I looked at Blaise again, "Well, for some of us."

He raised his middle finger in my direction and I grinned, standing and nodding at them all. My gaze lingered on Granger and I tapped the newspaper. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine." She smiled and flapped a 'be gone' hand in my direction. "Besides, next time it'll be you and Harry."

* * *

 

I had expected to wait for her for maybe half an hour, knowing it wouldn't have been possible for her to leave just minutes after I had without raising suspicion. But after an hour, I began to wonder if she did actually realise that I was serious about having plans, and that those plans included her. I had sat on her steps, watching out into the dark night, waiting to hear her footsteps. But the longer I sat, the more I thought that she was a bigger tease than I thought.

But I was worried for nothing.

She appeared just minutes later, seemingly out of nowhere, on the short path that led to her front door. I stood from my seat on her steps, brushed off my trousers, and raised an eyebrow at her.

"My entire front garden is glamoured," she said as she approached, "No one sees me."

I stepped in front of her, stopping her from climbing the steps. "Hi," I said, leaning down to kiss her, lingering against her mouth.

"Hi," she breathed when I pulled back.

"Might I say _, well played,_ Granger,"

"Do you think they bought it?"

I laughed, "That's not what I was referring to, but yes, they definitely bought our lies."

"I didn't know that Harry read that newspaper." She twisted her lips and shrugged, "Actually, I didn't know he read any newspapers."

"I'm sure it will be fine, and let's be honest, they're not the brightest bunch," I said, making her laugh. I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, "Thank you for the gifts, by the way, the frames are exquisite."

"I'm glad you approve."

I ran my finger down her sternum, and over the curve of her breast, shifting the neckline of her dress and eyeing the green lace that she had teased me with. "And the pictures weren't too bad either."

"Weren't too bad?" She looked amused, "That's all?  _Weren't too bad?"_

I fingered the lace that cut across her perfect skin, "They're the only things that are now beside my bed. I fall asleep looking at them, after I've come with your name on my lips."

She bit her lip and peered over my shoulder, then looked back at me and grinned. "Nice try, Malfoy."

"I wasn't trying anything," I said, "I came this morning looking at those pictures, have done so since the first one arrived."

"I think you're just sorry that you didn't take me up on my offer last weekend, and you want me to ask you in." She laughed and stepped around me, and then stopped short when she saw what was waiting for her. "What is  _that?"_

"Our next date." I stepped up behind her and gripped her hips, pulling her against me, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"But that's a broom." I could hear the panic creeping into her voice.

"It is," I said nuzzling her neck.

"But I hate flying."

"I know," I said quietly.

She turned to face me, "Draco, I don't know about this. Flying terrifies me, I only fly if I really have to."

"I know," I repeated and lifted my hands to her face, "But I'm going to teach you properly."

She shook her head, "Draco, I can't—"

"Do you trust me?" I asked, not letting her doubt herself.

She stared at me for several long seconds, her chest rising quickly with each panicked breath. I knew it had been a risky choice, but I also knew that she was more than capable of flying. She'd proven that she could, her confidence just needed a boost.

"Granger, you can do this," I said calmly, "I know you can. But if we get there tomorrow and you really don't want to, I promise I won't force you, okay?

She nodded and then closed her eyes, and I could see her trying to stay calm, to not be scared.

"Granger, I'll take that with me so you don't have to stare at it all night and freak yourself out." I kissed her forehead, "Unless, of course, you want me to come in and keep you calm."

She smiled and pressed her hand to my chest, "I gave you  _that_  opportunity last weekend. You said no."

"I was being a gentleman." I looked down as her hand moved lower, "You, on the other hand, are a tease."

She grinned, slipping her hand even lower and palming the front of my trousers. "How close did you get?"

I walked her backwards, pressing her against the door, "Embarrassingly so."

I kissed the corner of her mouth, sliding my lips across her jaw and along her throat. She hummed against my ear and then pushed me gently away.

"Well, I hope those pictures will be enough," She smiled sweetly, dropping her hand away from my aching cock, and then reached for the door handle, and stepped inside. "Three more weeks, Draco. I hope can you last that long."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually finished last week...another project of the short film variety kept me busy over the weekend, and I forgot to post it. SORRY!
> 
> Anyway, I know I say it all the time, but much thanks for reading and loving my work xx


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

 

*******  HERMIONE  *******

* * *

 

I sat in the window seat, watching as the sun slowly lowered in the evening sky to finally dip below the horizon. I’d been awake since stupid o’clock, not bothering to even try to sleep after a fitful night of stressing about Draco’s revelation of wanting to teach me to love flying, and had spent the day in this very spot, trying to read away my fears.  

I could fly, of course I could, but the thought of sitting on a tiny broomstick, one hundred feet in the air, terrified me. I much preferred to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. I never understood the thrill that Harry and Ginny talked about when flying, never understood their lack of fear, never understood why balancing precariously on thin piece of wood in mid-air held any interest to anyone. 

And besides, why would anyone fly when you could simply apparate? 

I groaned and turned my head away from the window, not wanting to have to actually get ready for this ridiculous date. He had sent an owl not long after I had left him on my doorstep, the note informing me that he would pick me up at 7pm. A time which only made my terror intensify; night time flying was even less appealing. 

I put my bare feet on the cool floorboards, and stripped as I padded across the room. 

My bedroom was large, but despite its size, it was comfortable and cosy. And after I’d graduated from Hogwarts and I couldn’t bear to live in my parents empty home, this room was the reason I bought my flat. The window seat had been the winner. I had instantly pictured myself spending hours sitting here, reading, drinking tea, or simply watching as the world went about its daily business. 

My bed sat in the centre, the rich, dark wooden bed head set perfectly against the latte coloured wall. The en suite bathroom and walk in wardrobe doors were side-by-side on the opposite wall. A small bookshelf sat beside the window and was overflowing with books, bookmarks jutting out from pages still waiting to be read.  

Another bedroom was just down the hallway, with a smaller bathroom beside it. Downstairs my living room housed even more books, the shelves overfilled to bursting and now books were piling up on my coffee table, and the dining table in the next room. It was smaller than the house I grew up in, much smaller, but I loved it and it was home. 

I stepped into the bathroom and stood under the shower for what seemed like forever, letting the hot water wash over me, calming my nerves and silencing all the noise in my head. I closed my eyes and told myself that since he had put so much effort into our previous dates, I could put aside my anxieties and endure one night of blinding fear. 

I turned off the water, drying myself and wrapping the large, fluffy towel around me. I stood in my wardrobe, staring at my clothes and wondering what the hell it was that I was doing. 

He’d been right; I  _was_  being a tease. And it was so out of character for me, it made me even less sure of what I was doing. 

He was being polite, and charming, and his old-school manners were the exact same thing that had me swooning over Miles. But unlike Miles, Draco already knew me. There was no need for dates that were more like interviews; no need to put on a mask and hide until deciding that  _yes,_   _he’s the one_.  

I wasn’t exactly obsessing over him, but even when I wasn’t with him, he was impossible to ignore. He made me feel drunk, made me feel lightheaded, made me feel, for the first time in what seemed like forever, that I couldn’t breathe. 

My nipples tightened and I squeezed my eyes shut, swaying slightly on my feet, a heavy ache pooling in my belly. I was naked and could have had Draco in my bed right now, could have had the chance to touch him, to feel the weight of him over me, to have him inside me, to let him be filthy and greedy and take my body as many times as he pleased.  

But instead of enjoying Draco - naked, sweaty, filthy Draco - I was standing in my wardrobe having to decide what to wear to a date which the mere thought of terrified me.

Sighing, I opened my eyes, letting the towel drop to the floor, and taking into account that it was early evening and we would be flying, I pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and then chose a pink cashmere jumper to go over the top. It was light, but warm, and would keep the cold air from freezing me to the bone.  

I glanced at the clock beside my bed, it was 6.45, and my nerves kicked in again. 15 minutes and he would be here. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, and didn’t bother with any makeup; I foresaw watery eyes, so it was pointless. 

I headed downstairs and sat on my sofa, tapping my fingers nervously on my thigh and telling myself repeatedly that I could do this.  

A knock on my door 5 minutes later startled me. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was punctual, if nothing else. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, telling myself once more I would be fine, and opened the door. 

He was smiling already. “Are you ready to fly?” 

He looked incredible. A soft looking grey zip-neck jumper over a white shirt, and black jeans, well worn and fitting him to perfection, and doing things to my insides that made me feel that drunken feeling that was becoming familiar in his presence.  

He leaned into me, kissing me gently, and then asking again, “Are you ready to fly?”  

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m really not.”  

He laughed and cupped my face, “And I meant what I said, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

I gripped his wrists, and smiled, “Draco, I trust you, I’m just nervous.” 

He kissed the tip of my nose, “I know, but I promise you’ll love it.”

* * *

The air was cool when we appeared at the edge of a forest. I was glad that Draco had insisted that I bring my coat, and now pulled it tightly around me.

“We’re going in there?” I asked looking at the dense trees with concern. 

“We are,” He said and held out a hand.

“Oh, no,” I shook my head, eyeing the path that disappeared into the trees “You lead, Malfoy. I have no idea where we’re going, and let me tell you, if you try anything weird, they won’t find your body.” 

He took my hand, “Nothing weird, I promise.” 

He held his wand out, whispering _Lumos_ , and then led me into the forest, following a trail that threaded its way through the trees. And as the light all but disappeared, my other senses heightened; I could hear water running, could feel the air rapidly cooling, and I tightened my grip on his hand. 

“Where are we going?” I asked, and I could hear the nervousness in my own voice. 

I could see his smile in the faint light from his wand, the mischievous glint in his eyes, as he squeezed my hand. “Almost there,” He assured me, without actually answering my question.

“Draco...” 

“Trust me, Granger,” He said, “Another minute and we’ll be there. No dead bodies required.”

I rolled my eyes in the dark, and chuckled, “Dead  _body_ ,” I reminded him, “Only one. _Yours.”_  

He stopped walking and turned to look at me, his face completely serious. “Granger, if you don’t trust me to walk you safely through a forest, how will you trust me to teach you to love flying?”  

“I do trust you,” I told him, “I never thought I would ever trust you, but I do. But that doesn’t take away my nerves, or just how fucking scared I am at doing this. I’ve only flown a broomstick a handful of times, and you dragging me through a dark forest to fly on one once more isn’t helping.”

My voice had risen, and I could feel the panic rising in my chest. I took several deep breaths and looked down at my feet, tears forming in my eyes. I was being stupid; I had seen and done more in my short life than most others, this should have been a breeze. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of terror seeping in.

“Hey,” he said quietly, dropping my hand and lifting my face to look at him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how much this terrified you. And the very last thing I want to do is scare you. We don’t have to do this.”

I touched his hand on my cheek and blinked back my tears, “I’m just being stupid. I can do this.” 

“It’s not stupid if you’re this upset,” he brushed away a single tear that escaped my eye, “This was unbelievably thoughtless of me.”

I shook my head, “No, this is actually very thoughtful. No one has ever spent the time to show me how to do this properly. Harry and Ginny have always just been pleased there’s something they can do that I can’t. I want to do this, Draco. I want you to show me how.”

“Are you sure?” He still didn’t look convinced. 

I stepped closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, “I’m standing in a dark forest with the person I once punched in the face because I hated him to my core. Things change. Maybe flying isn’t as terrifying when you’re taught to do it properly.”

“We can stop any time, okay?”  

I nodded, “And I’ll try not to be a hysterical idiot.” 

He smiled, leaning in to kiss me, “And you can punch my face again if I push you too far.”

I kissed him back, “Deal.”

Less than a minute later we stepped out of the dense trees, into an oval-shaped clearing. It wasn’t huge, but large enough for a flying lesson, and with the tall trees surrounding it, we would be well hidden from anyone who might pass by. The moon was floating above, shining a bright light over the clearing, but I was sure that Draco had enhanced the lighting, it seemed to glow and was too well lit for just the moon.  

A small tent with the front missing was off to one side. “What’s that?”  

He followed my gaze, “That’s dinner, after we’re done, of course. I don’t need you blowing chunks at me while we’re in the air.”

I punched his arm, “Arse.”

He kissed my cheek, “Are you  _really_  sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” I said, “Show me how it’s done, _oh great one_.” 

He laughed and walked towards a fallen log at the edge of the clearing. I hadn’t noticed the two brooms leaning against it, and my heart did a tiny leap. I knew I’d be safe with him, I trusted him implicitly, but the sight of those two brooms set me on edge again.  

He handed one to me, and I took it, trying to ignore my rapidly beating heart. His hand covered mine and he smiled reassuringly. 

“You know the basics, right?” He asked and I nodded, and he continued, “So we’ll start there. Get on the broom and lift off the ground, just like you were taught at school.” 

I did as he asked, and like Madam Hooch had instructed all those years ago, I pushed of the ground, hard. I shot into the air, hating the gut-dropping feeling the instantaneous rise had caused. My eyes were shut tightly, and I heard Draco chuckle from somewhere below me.  

“Come back down, Granger,” he called and I looked down. 

He was barely off the ground, while I was hovering at least 30 feet above him. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the handle tighter and I stayed where I was.  

“Baby steps, Granger,” Draco said as he rose to the same height as I was. “You don’t have to be so high. Brooms fly just as easily at lower heights.” 

I nodded, but still didn’t move. He reached out and gripped the broom handle, gently guiding us back to the ground. My feet hit the solid surface and I let out a breath.  

“Lesson done then?”  

He shrugged, “If you want it to be, then yes.” 

“I’m being pathetic, aren’t I?”  

“No, not at all.” He said, “Try again. Only this time, don’t kick off so hard.” 

“Not so hard,” I muttered to myself - not what Madam Hooch had taught us - and I took a breath, pushing gently off the ground. I was surprised to find that when I came to a stop, I was floating comfortably barely ten feet off the ground. 

“Brilliant,” Draco said when he drew level with me, a huge smile on his face. “Now, lean forward slightly and drop back to the ground.” 

I felt my feet touch the ground once more, and I grinned at Draco. “I didn’t die.”  

“Nope, definitely not dead.” He laughed, “Ready to try again?”  

I nodded, surprised at myself at how eager I was to do so. I hadn’t felt the crazy stomach churning that came with blasting off the ground at speed, I had only felt - for the first time in my life - a sense of joy when flying a broomstick.  

I kicked off the ground again, a little higher this time, and Draco was right beside me, looking as pleased as I felt.  

“Alright?” He asked.  

“Yeah,” I said, “You make this seem easy.” 

“It is easy,” he said with a nod, “You just need to trust yourself and know that you can do it.” 

He lowered himself back to the ground and I followed, looking at him expectantly, assuming that the he would show me something else. But instead he leaned over and kissed me.  

“What was that for?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.  

“Because you’re more amazing than you realise.” He kissed me again, “Most people wouldn’t have followed me down that path, but you did, and now you’re grinning like an idiot because you’ve done something you never thought you could.” 

“I flew a broom straight up and back down again, I’m not sure that’s amazing.” I didn’t think I’d achieved much but his words made my grin widen.  

“Don’t sell yourself short, Granger. You made a start. That’s what’s important here.” 

“What’s next?” I asked and he laughed. 

“See, you’re enjoying this more than you thought you would.” He pointed across the clearing. “Across to the other side. Stay low and go slowly. And don’t try anything fancy.”

I snorted a laugh, “Fancy.  _Right_.” 

I took off slowly, staying low to the ground, and despite my slow speed, the air still whipped around me, reminding me that I had nothing around me. I came to a stop, and Draco was well past me before he realised.

He turned quickly and was beside me in an instant. “What happened?”

“I think I just worked out why I hate this.” I carefully let go of the broom with one hand and waved it in an arc around me, “There’s nothing here. Nothing to keep me from falling to my death.  _Nothing_.”

He nodded, understanding. “You feel safer in a muggle car, safer with something solid around you?”

“I guess,” I frowned, “But...”

“But..?”

I flew back to the ground and he followed. I held up the broom, “A car would appear to be safer, that makes sense, but I used to ride my bike when I was a child, and that wasn’t really much more than this.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “But your bike was firmly planted on the ground, was it not?” 

I looked at the broom and then back at him. I shook my head. “Draco Malfoy schooling  _me_  in the way of muggles.” 

“Makes up for all those times you schooled me in the ways of wizards.” He kissed my forehead, “Have you had enough?”  

I looked at the broom again, and decided that I hadn’t. I had been enjoying myself until I began to think. “No, we can keep going. I just have to stop thinking.” 

He laughed, “With you, that’s probably a harder ask than flying.” 

I poked my tongue out at him, and then mounted the broom, pushing a few feet up off the ground. I took off slowly, focusing on the edge of the clearing and emptying my mind of everything else. I was mildly aware that Draco was behind me, but pushed even that fact away, and concentrated on only where I was headed.  

“Flying  _and_  not thinking on the same day,” Draco said as I slowed to a stop when we reached the trees, “This is a momentous occasion.”

I grinned, not caring about his joking, and made to turn around. His arm flew out and grabbed me, stopping me from toppling off the broom. 

“Not so fast,” he said, still holding me, seeming to sense my racing heart. “It’s easy to go in a straight line, turning takes practice.” 

I dropped back to the ground, turned around and lifted up again. He cracked up laughing, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him.  

“You’re ridiculous, Granger.” He was still laughing as he followed me back across the open space. “You have a great arse though.” 

I ignored him, knowing he was trying to break my concentration so he could come to my rescue again, and leaned forward, speeding up. There was not a thought in my head except to reach the other side, and with that, I leaned further forward, pointing the broom handle towards the trees, and sped across the clearing.  

“Look at you go,” Draco called as I came to a stop. “You’ll be an expert in no time.”

I looked back over my shoulder, and laughed at his beaming smile, “Not thinking definitely does the trick.” 

He stopped beside me, “So, how about you try not thinking about turning around?”  

I nodded, and closed my eyes, telling myself to not think. But to no avail. I yelped as I felt myself slip sideways and his arm shot out again. “What did I do?” 

“You leaned too far.” He told me, letting go of my arm when I righted myself.  

“What do you mean?” 

“What they fail to teach you is that flying a broomstick is simply all about intricate leaning.” He grinned at my confused expression, “If you lean too far to the sides, you’ll topple off. Same if you lean too far forward or back, the broom will likely buck you off. But if you get it right, the broom will fly with ease.”

“ _Intricate leaning_.” I looked sceptically at him.

“Yes, Granger. Intricate leaning.” He moved his body almost imperceptibly to the right and the broom flew smoothly away. He turned back towards me, “See. You only need small movements and the broom will follow your lead.”

“Small movements, right.” I shifted as he had done, a small movement to the right and the broom glided easily, turning in a wide arc and I was once more facing the open clearing. “Wow, you were right. Small movements.”

He watched me as I experimented, moving from side to side, turning in wide circles, becoming more and more daring as I became aware of how easy this was.  

“Are you ready to go a bit higher?” He asked.

I looked into the night sky, I’d been so busy concentrating on what I was doing I had not noticed how clear the night was, had missed the stars coming out. I looked back at him, and smiling, I leaned back and flew higher. 

He shot up towards me, doing a loop and stopping right beside me, “You’re brilliant, do you know that?” 

“I’ve been told.” I shrugged.

“Off you go,” he said and nodded towards the opposite side of the clearing, “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Try to keep up!” I called and took off. I knew it was laughable, I was barely moving, but I didn’t care. I was 50 feet off the ground, and I was flying. Nothing else in that moment mattered.  

We went back and forth, over and over again, Draco encouraging me to climb higher each time, and I began to realise why it was that Harry and Ginny and Draco, and everyone else loved this. It was the feel of the air rushing past me, the sense of freedom, the sheer blissful joy of flying. That was until I looked down and the small tent was only a blur, and my brain kicked back in. 

The realisation that I was way too high hit me, and my sudden terror caused me to freeze. My chest constricted and I couldn’t breathe. 

“I’ve got you,” Draco said out of nowhere, his hand gripping my arm. “It’s okay, Granger. Don’t look down. Look at me.”

I could hear his voice, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ground. “Too high,” I whispered and I felt Draco’s grip on me tighten.

“Granger, I’ve got you,” His voice was calm, almost soothing, “You’re alright. Just look at me.”

I slowly lifted my head to look at him. He was nodding, reassuring me that I was safe, that he had me, all the while slowly descending us. “Breathe, Granger,” he said, “Almost there.”  

I gasped a relieved breath when my feet finally touched the ground. Draco was off his broom and had me in his arms before I could think. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, “That was far too high. I should never have let that happen.” 

I wrapped my arms around him, “No. That was brilliant.” 

He looked down at me, “Granger, I thought you were going to faint.”

“I thought the same, but right up until then...” I smiled and shook my head, “I was actually enjoying flying.” 

He cupped my face, his cold hands making me shiver, “You liked it then?” 

“Draco, that was,  _holy crap_! That was brilliant.”  

He pressed his lips to mine, holding me tighter against him, spreading a warmth across my cold skin. When he pulled back, he studied my face, a small frown creasing his forehead. His eyes travelled over my face, taking in my eyes, sliding over my cheeks to my lips.  

“You continue to surprise me, Granger,” he let out a content sigh and his face relaxed, “You are a revelation. An hour ago you were terrified, and now look at you.” He brushed his thumbs over my cheeks, “You’re practically glowing.” 

“I never thought I could do that.” I kissed him, “You are an excellent teacher.”

I noticed his cheeks tinge pink and his eyes dropped away for a second. I was surprised his embarrassment. I didn’t think it possible. He was so self-assured, so confident, but my praise had him blushing. 

“Why are you embarrassed?” I asked gently. 

“I’m not,” he said, his cheeks growing redder.  

I tightened my arms around him, “You fucked me in your office, you put your fingers inside me in the library, and had I let you, I’m sure you would have done the same at the gallery. But now, Draco Malfoy, you’re embarrassed because you taught me to fly. Why is that?” 

He looked over my shoulder, avoiding eye contact with me, “I taught you something.  _You_.” He looked back at me, “You never thought you could fly? Well, I never dreamed I would teach you anything.” 

“I’m not as brilliant everyone thinks, Draco,” I shook my head, “Far from it. You can memorise anything from a book, but something like flying can only be taught. And you did it brilliantly. Don’t ever be embarrassed about that.” 

He cleared his throat and indicated towards the tent, “So,  _ah_ , are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually.”  Here was one more thing to put in the Draco Malfoy file that was building in my head; he was adorable when he was embarrassed.  I had thanked him on our previous dates, but direct praise for doing something so well? Praise had clearly been something that had been lacking throughout his life, and he had no real idea how to deal with it, so I would ensure that it happened more often.  

“I hope this is okay.” 

I followed his gaze; there was blanket and cushions on the ground, with a giant platter of food in the middle. It held breads and cheeses, meats and dips, fruits and berries, olives, little tomatoes and baby carrots. And then on a smaller tray there was an assortment of miniature pastries; caramel profiteroles, cheesecake bites, and tiny custard éclairs. Off to the right was a heavy silver bucket with several bottles of wine in it. 

I smiled up at him and echoed his own words, “You continue to surprise me Draco Malfoy. This is perfect.”

He grinned and then told me to sit, pouring wine into two glasses and handing one to me as he sat beside me. I popped an olive into my mouth, loving the salty taste, and then I frowned.  

“What?” He said frowning back at me.  

I looked at the food in front of us, “These are all my favourites.”

Chewing on a carrot, he regarded me for a few seconds, a mischievous look slowly creeping across his face. “Are they?” 

“Owen?” I asked. 

He shook his head, “Nope. This is all me.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Are you stalking me?” 

“No,” He laughed, “I’m just observant.” 

“Maybe more than I realised,” I said, smiling. 

He smiled back, “You’re hard not to notice, Granger.” 

It was my turn to be embarrassed and I looked down at my lap, a sudden burst of anxiety hitting me. “Why me?” I asked quietly. 

“What do you mean?” 

I continued to stare at my lap, running my thumb along the side seam of my jeans.  His hand covered mine stopping my nervousness.

“What do you mean,  _why me?_ ” He asked again.

I still didn’t look at him, “All those other women, I’m sure you could have any of them, so why me?”

“Granger, look at me.” He said but I refused, turning my head away and I heard him sigh. “I don’t know where this is coming from, I thought the last few weekshad been perfect. I’ve loved every second with you, and have hated every second without you. And as for being observant, that’s nothing new. I’ve been watching you for years.” 

His fingers gently touched my chin and turned me to look at him, “I started the flirting out of hope that I could win you over. Every week I looked forward to seeing you, even if it was to just say something filthy to get your attention. And when you started flirting back, I thought that maybe I had a sliver of a chance.  _Why you_? Because you are everything. You are smart, brilliantly so, and you are fearless, and you are stunningly beautiful. That’s  _why you_.” He leaned in and kissed me, “Why are you suddenly concerned about this?”

“You know me,” I whispered, “my favourite foods, my favourite colour, my favourite books; you probably even know what shampoo I use.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Concern flitted across his face. 

“But I know almost nothing about you,” I admitted, “It hasn’t even occurred to me to do that. I just assume things.” 

“What things?” 

I shrugged, “I assume your favourite colour is green because of Slytherin; I assume you only drink whiskey but here you are drinking wine with me-“ 

“Okay, stop.” He shifted so he was sitting directly in front of me. He took both of my hands in his. “You’re more observant than you think. You told me I’m kind, and thoughtful, and even sweet, not words I ever thought anyone would associate with me.” 

“But you  _are_  those things, and more.”

“Maybe, but you’re the only person who has noticed, so maybe you know me as well as I know you.” He lifted my hands to his lips, kissing them, “I think you’ve observed me more than you realise.” 

“But you knew all those things about me before any of this, I’m only noticing things about you now.” 

“It doesn’t matter when or where or how. You can just learn as we go.” He squeezed my fingers, “Besides, I don’t know  _everything_  about you, not yet.” 

I gave him a sceptical look and he smiled. 

“Granger, you let me fuck you in my office, you let me put my fingers inside you in the library, and a week ago, you invited me into your house because I think you wanted me to do those things to you again. You wouldn’t have done all that if you didn’t know me.” 

“I guess...” I shrugged. 

“Okay,” he said, “How about this? If you’re so sure you don’t know me, you organise our next date.” 

“How will  _that_  help?” I shook my head at him, “That will just  _prove_  I know nothing about you.” 

“Well,” he stretched out on the blanket, leaning back on his elbows, looking smug, “I know that you know me better than you think, so impress me with something I’d love doing.” 

“But that’s just it, I  _don’t_  know what you love,” I threw my hands in the air, exasperated. 

“I loved those pictures,” he winked at me and I rolled my eyes.

“What guy wouldn’t love half naked pictures of a woman?”

He grinned, “Owen.” 

I dropped my head, and laughed, “True, but if I sent him half naked pictures of you, I wouldn’t see him for a week.” 

Draco laughed and held out his hand, pulling me to him. I shifted to lay beside him, curling into his side. He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead “Where’s this coming from?” 

“I don’t know,” I said against his chest.

“I don’t believe that,” He smoothed his hand across my back, “What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

I leaned up on my elbow and looked down at him, “Maybe I want to keep you for myself a bit longer.” 

“Are you worried what everyone will think?”  

“After last night, no. Pansy and Ginny will wet themselves,” I smiled, “I like just being with you, without any scrutiny, without everyone watching our every move.” 

He nodded slowly, understanding, “You hate the limelight.”  

“Yes,” I said and then looked thoughtfully at him. “We’ve not discussed how this will happen. I guess I’ve been living on the assumption that after date five, we’ll just be together and that’s it.” 

He reached for the platter of food and picked up a blueberry, “Well, why does it have to be anything more than that? We’ll have our final date - which, by the way, will be spectacular - and then we’re just together. We don’t have to announce it, we’ll just be us.” He popped the blueberry into his mouth and shrugged.  

“It’s that simple?” I reached across him to grab some grapes, “We just show up in the pub after our last date and, what?” 

“Well, it’ll depend on our schedules on that day,” he said nonchalantly, “We can either arrive together, hand in hand, or we can meet there and we can put on a show.” 

“A show?” I chewed a grape, “How do you mean?” 

“Well, if you get there before me, I’ll greet you with a kiss, say  _hi_ , and take my seat. If I get there before you, you’ll do the same.” 

I drummed my fingers on his chest and smiled, “You’ve thought about this.” 

He nodded, “I’ve thought about nothing but this almost constantly since you walked out of my office.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I’ve wanted this for longer than you truly know. And as much as you don’t want everyone to know, I want the entire world to know how lucky I am.”

I bit my lip, “What about  _all_  those other women? I’m sure one of them-” 

He cut me off, pressing his fingers to my lips, and rolled us so we were face to face. He pulled my leg over his hip and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, “I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

His lips brushed against mine, with just enough pressure to turn me slowly into a puddle. He tugged my shirt free from my jeans, and his fingers were cool against my warm skin, “Do not listen to Pansy. I can’t deny that there have been other women, but there haven’t been thousands.” He kissed me, and then stared intently at me, “And none of them are you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The great JK was right...writing about people flying on broomsticks IS tedious...I hope I haven't bored you xx


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

 

****** DRACO ******

* * *

 

 

“So, this arrived for you.” 

Blaise strutted into my office carrying a square package wrapped neatly in brown paper and held together with a gold ribbon. He placed it on my desk in front me and sat in the chair opposite, grinning like an idiot.  

I looked at the package, my heart racing, wanting to tear it open and see what she had planned. But with Blaise sitting opposite me, that was impossible. 

“Are we going to talk about it today?” Blaise asked. 

“Talk about what?” I tore my eyes away from the brown paper and looked up at him. 

“Are we going to talk about all these gifts that Granger has been sending you?” He shot me a knowing look, daring me to deny his assumption. 

“Granger?” I surprised myself at how calm my voice was, “Why would  _Granger_  be sending me gifts?” 

“Because the two of you are clearly together.”  

My heart thumped so hard against my rib cage I thought my chest would explode.  _How the hell did he know?_  

“We’re not together,” I said keeping my face straight, “We’re friends, that’s all.” 

He narrowed his eyes at me, and pointed his wand at the door. It snapped shut and the lock clicked. He then pointed the wand in the air and I felt a surge of magic swirl around us as a silencing charm took hold.  

“You might have sold that bullshit story to everyone else, but I do not believe a word of it.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Three identical packages last week, with red ribbons, and one today with a gold ribbon. Fairly obvious who they’re from.”

“You’re basing this suspicion of yours on a few packages and the colour ribbon they were wrapped in?” I shrugged, “Not much evidence in my book.”

“Gryffindor red and gold? Please, she should have been more covert.” 

“She probably assumed that no one else would see them.”

He looked smug, “Did she now?” 

I stared at him for a beat and then squeezed my eyes shut, realising I had just confirmed his suspicions, “ _Shit_.” 

“How long?”  

I opened my eyes and saw the sincerity in his face. He wasn’t pissed because we’d kept this secret, he seemed genuinely pleased.  

“A few weeks,” I finally told him. “And how exactly is it that you know?”

“Well, the day you skipped out at lunch, I knew something was up. You never leave, not in the middle of the day in any case. It was hard not to notice the gifts that arrived last week, and something was different with you both in the pub last week. You were doing your whole flirting thing, but there was, I don’t know...something. It was more real, not the usual game the two of you play.” 

“Does Ginny know?” I suddenly panicked, “Because if Ginny knows, Pansy knows, and she’ll tell Potter, and then he’ll tell Weasley, which means Daphne will know.” 

“Calm down,” He said shaking his head, “Like I said, they all bought that joke of a story the two of you spun. Besides, Ginny isfar too busy plotting with Pansy and Daphne how to get you two together to notice anything. But I guess that’s now a waste of their time, right.” 

“You can’t tell them, Blaise,” I looked him dead in the eye, “None of them. They can’t know.”

He frowned, “Why not? You’re finally shagging the girl of your dreams, I thought you’d be screaming that fact to the sky.”

“She set rules.” I leaned my elbows on my desk and sighed, “Five dates. One a week for five weeks, and if everything works out between us, we can tell everyone then. And we’re _not_ shagging.”

“Shagging. Sleeping together. Making love,” he held a palm up, “Call it what you will. And why five dates?”

I shrugged, “I guess she wanted to be sure about me, and not shagging was one of her rules. No sex on any of our dates.”  

His eye went wide, and then he laughed, “No sex? So you haven’t..?”

I shook my head and hoped he didn’t see through my lie, “No. Not yet.” 

“Wow.” He let out a low whistle. 

“Wow?” 

“Yeah,” he shot me a look that said holy shit. “I knew you were in love with her, I just didn’t realise how much.”  

“Meaning?”  

“Meaning,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “She set a no sex rule and you’re okay with it? Are you so in love with this girl that you can’t think straight?” 

I looked at him, a long silence stretching between us. He wasn’t wrong; I was totally in love with her, but I had always pictured something different. I had always pictured us falling into bed, all of our pent-up frustrations being fucked out of our systems, and then we’d just be together. I hadn’t been prepared for just wanting to be with her, hadn’t been prepared to miss her when I wasn’t. And I certainly hadn’t been prepared for the feelings she brought out in me; the way my chest would constrict every time I saw her,  the way my heart would pound, the way my blood boiled in my veins when someone else looked at her. 

“Yeah, I’m more than okay with it. I never expected to feel like this. I just like being with her. She’s interesting and she’s fun, and I could listen to her ramble on and on for hours.”  I shrugged at his surprised expression, “You think it’s weird that I don’t need the epic shagfest?” 

He shook his head, “I felt the same way about Ginny. You know it took forever to convince her to even go out with me, but it might surprise you that it was months before we partook in the epic shagfest. So no, it’s not weird at all.” 

I was surprised. The way that the pair of them talked, it was no wonder the rest of us didn’t just drop in on them. We were all slightly terrified that they spent most of their time at home naked. “It is weird, though. I feel like I should be shagging her brains out, that her whole no sex rule is ridiculous, but at the same time I’m glad we’re not basing it solely on sex.” 

A slow smile stretched across his face, “I never thought I’d see the day when a girl got you by the short and curlies.” 

I snorted, “And Ginny keeps your balls where?” 

He laughed, “Firmly in her hand.” 

“No.”  I held up my hand and winced, “Sorry I asked.”

He leaned forward again and tapped my desk with his knuckles, “Are you happy? Because if she makes you happy, and you do the same for her, that’s all that matters.” 

I smiled at him, “This is a very grown up conversation we’re having.”

“This is a very grown up situation you’ve got going on.” He stood, “How much longer until you announce this to the world?” 

“Two weeks,” I said and then grinned, “Unless she changes the rules.” 

He laughed, “Serves us right for getting mixed up with fiery Gryffindors.” 

“I have your word on this,” I needed his reassurance that he wouldn’t tell a soul. Granger would have both our arses. 

“Of course. My lips are sealed.” He nodded at the package on my desk, and grinning, headed for the door, “I can see that you’re eager to open that, so I’ll leave you to it”

I waited an entire three seconds after he shut the door before tearing the paper open, and then frowned at the contents. I held up a dark-grey t-shirt that looked old and worn, but it was a soft, cashmere blend, and I wondered if she had actually bought it like it was or found it in the corner of her cupboard. 

I looked back at the torn paper and picked up a note in her hand writing.  _Wear this and jeans, I’ll pick you up at 8pm on Saturday._  

I looked at the t-shirt again, and smiled; I had no clues as to the significance of it, or even what she had planned for us, nor did I care.  

Because what I did know was that Blaise was right: I was completely in love with her. 

And whatever she had planned would be perfect. 

 

* * *

 

 

 “Granger?”  

I’d been pacing for almost 25 minutes. She had told me she would be here at 8, but in my nervous excitement I’d been ready for almost an hour.  

I had stared at myself in the mirror, not recognising the person staring back. I’d never in all my life been dressed so casually. My work clothes were my usual attire; pressed trousers, tucked shirts, waistcoats. And even when I did dress down in jeans, I always wore neat shirts and jumpers **.**  

And as the minutes ticked by, Ihad begun to question the t-shirt. It didn’t seem to sit right, it felt too light, felt untidy, felt like I was almost wearing nothing, and I wanted to change into something I was more comfortable in. But I had told myself that she had asked me to wear it, so I could put my discomfort aside for one night and do as she asked.  

But now she was standing on my doorstep, and she was dressed like I’d never seen before.  

She wore a loose-fitting red t-shirt, with a deep v-neck that looked as though it had been ripped, rather than designed that way. Her jeans - her skin tight jeans - had a gaping hole in one knee, and a vertical tear mid-way on one thigh. Her dark-red lace-up sneakers had a star and what looked to be an arrow on them, and she looked more amazing than I had ever seen her.  

“Wow,” She said, “You look incredible.” 

I looked down at my own attire **,**  “Are you sure?”

“ _Shit_. This fits you perfectly.” She reached out and ran her hand over my chest, “I’m not sure I want anyone else seeing you in this.” 

I tugged at the hem, “It feels weird.”

“Well, you look amazing,” she paused with her hand on my stomach. “Maybe I should change our plans.”

“I did not get dressed like this for you to change our plans.” I arched an eyebrow at her, “What  _are_  our plans?” 

Her hand slipped beneath my t-shirt, her fingers tickling across my skin, “Are you nervous about them?” 

“Yes, and no.” I said truthfully, “I trust you, but this,” I tugged at the t-shirt, “has me somewhat concerned.” 

“Don’t be,” She reached behind her and when she lifted her hand from behind her back she was holding what looked like tickets. “We’re simply heading to a pub – well, actually a club actually – and listening to some music.”

I took one from her and studied it.  _Corey Taylor, The Garage, London, 9.00pm, September 1st._

“Who is this?” I asked and looked up to see her smiling. 

“He’s one of my favourites.” She said and plucked it back from my hand, shoving it back into the tight pocket covering her arse. “Like you with The Gallery, I planned this months ago. Blaise was coming with me, but I made him give up his ticket.” 

“Ginny lets you take her fiancé out?” I was surprised that I had no idea that the pair of them were friends outside of our Friday night pub meetings. 

She nodded, “Ginny isn’t a music fan, but Blaise is. And he and I have very similar tastes. So Ginny is happy for me to take him to muggle concerts so she doesn’t have to go with him.” 

“He knows about us. He asked about what was happening when he delivered your gift personally on Wednesday.” I said and she nodded. 

“Yeah, I was curious as to why he wasn’t put out when I asked him to give up his ticket. And considering he didn’t ask why,I assumed he suspected something.” She threaded her fingers between mine, “Are you ready?” 

I stared at her, “You don’t care that he knows?” 

“No,” She shrugged, “I know he won’t tell them. Sure, he’s scared of Ginny, but more so of me.” 

I laughed, “Fiery Gryffindors.” 

She frowned in question and I kissed her. 

“It’s nothing, just a conversation I had with him earlier this week.” I took a breath, tugged the neck of the stupid t-shirt that I planned to burn when I returned home, and nodded, “I’m ready.” 

“Excellent,” She said with an enormous grin, “Don’t be nervous, you’ll love this, Draco.”

Nodding, I felt the pull as she disapparated us away from my flat, and I was surprised when we reappeared in a garden just seconds later.  

I heard her laugh and looked down at her; she was almost bouncing with excitement beside me. I dragged her to me and kissed her, full and deep and lingering. Her excitement had my nerves disappearing, replaced with the tingling anticipation of just what this night had in store.  

“Hmm,” she murmured against my mouth, “Keep that up, Mr Malfoy, and I might just take us back home.” 

I slid my hands around her hips to grip her arse, “No, Ms Granger, I’m far too intrigued to go back home just yet. I’m eager to see what has you this excited.” 

She linked our hands again and led me out of the small garden and onto the street. We hadn’t gone far when I saw the sign for our destination, and beside me Grangers pace quickened.  

The building stood out by no means, a simple facade, with what looked like a restaurant to one side and a cafe to the other, and an entrance that you would easily walk past if not for the long line of people out the front. I groaned internally; I hated queues. But Granger surprised me again, bypassing the crowd and greeting the security guard. 

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted her with a giant bear hug, lifting her off the ground, and then spied me over her shoulder. “Blaise not with ya tonight?”  

“No,” she laughed as he righted her on her feet again. She wrapped her arm around my waist, “He thought this one should lose his Garage virginitytonight.” 

The man laughed, a loud guffaw, and clapped me on the shoulder, “Well, ya picked a fine night to come. Got ya tickets?”

She held them out and he wished us a good night, and I couldn’t help but notice the scowls of the people waiting in line.  

“Special privileges?” I asked as we moved through the doors. 

“Special privileges,” she nodded and grinned. “You don’t have the market on those.” 

Inside the space was larger than I had expected. The stage was set at one end, the bar at the other, and the floor between was wide and open, and the ceiling vaulted into a wide arch across the space. Already the floor had started to fill, and my spine stiffened at the realisation of just how many people would be I here.  

“I think you need a drink,” she said pulling me to the bar, “You’re going to love this, Draco, stop worrying.” 

“Says the woman who was scared to fly.” I countered and she just smirked at me. 

“And look how well that turned out.”  

I poked her ribs and she squirmed, laughing, and then leaned over the bar to greet the bartender. A quick press of cheeks, made awkward by the wide bar, had me nonetheless prickling with possessiveness and I curled my hand around her hip.  

She ordered a scotch and a Black Russian and then looked back at me, rolling her eyes, “What?”  

My eyes flicked deliberately to her chest where the v in her t-shirt had exposed the black lace of her bra and then back up again, “Do you always give the bartender a show?” 

She looked down, and seeing the gaping neck-line, laughed, “He’s more Owens type than mine, so I’m sure he didn’t even notice. Are you jealous?” 

I pulled her against me, “Very.” 

She looked up at me, her eyes wide, “Why?” 

Our drinks arrived and she dug her hand into her pocket and shoved some notes on the bar, barely even looking at what she was doing, and then waved the bartender away. 

I took a sip of my drink and kept my eyes on her, knowing that she was waiting for my response. “I watched all those men in the ferry terminal, all the men at the gallery, all the men in the pub on Friday nights, they all look at you, and I know what they picture in their minds.”  

She bit her lip, “But I’m with you. You don’t have to worry about me with any of them.” 

“But we’re not officially together yet. So I can’t beat the snot out of any of them until we are.”

“Is that something you’re concerned about? This not working and me going off with someone else?”  

I shook my head, “I think we both know exactly where this is headed, but that doesn’t mean I have to like the fact that every man you walk past ogles you.” 

She kissed my jaw, “And do you think it’s any different for me?” 

I frowned at her, “How so?” 

She sniggered, “You honestly don’t think women look at you?” She stood up on her toes and spoke close to my ear, “Seriously, the girls behind us have been looking at your arse since we arrived.”

“And do you want to punch their faces?” I asked.

“They can look all they want,” She growled against my throat, “but that arse belongs to me.” 

And as if to prove her point, she clutched my arse in both hands and then kissed me, sliding her tongue into my mouth, not caring a damn about who was watching. And in that moment, neither did I. All my concerns about men watching her left and for just a few seconds it was just the two of us.  

“That doesn’t happen with Blaise,” a voice said pulling us back to reality.  

We both turned to the bartender and Granger laughed. “His fiancé would kill me. This one, however, is mine.” 

A smile lit up his face and he reached his hand out, “Luke.” 

I shook his hand and wrapped the other around Grangers shoulders, “Draco.” 

He looked between us, “Did your parents hate you both? Hermione and Draco?” He shook his head, chuckling.

“I guess that just means we’re suited,” she told him, and ordered another round.  

Luke pointed his finger at me, “You look after our girl here, or Sonny will rip you a new one.” 

I nodded - assuming Sonny was the security guard that greeted us - and told him I would. “They know you here.” I said when he moved on to the next customer, “How special are your privileges?”   

“I spend most of my time in our world, Draco, but I still live in this one as well. It keeps me grounded, reminds me where I came from. So, maybe I like to give back.” 

I looked around the room, noting that the crowd was growing, filling the space around us, and then back at her. “You own this place?” 

She snorted, “I wish. No, I’m just an investor. It helps me to get tickets to see acts like tonights without any hassles. Art galleries for you, grungy clubs for me.”

“And here I was thinking that you liked quiet libraries.” 

“I do like libraries.  _Very_  much so.” She lifted her drink and swallowed half of it in one go, licking her lips and smiling at me in a way that was a mix of innocence and teasing. She’d already drunk the first drink in record time, and the way she was looking at me had me wondering how our evening would end.  

“You might need to slow down there,” I traced my thumb over her bottom lip, “I saw what went into that drink, I’d hate for to get drunk and miss the show.” 

Her fingers teased the buckle on my belt, and she slipped one finger into the waist of my jeans, “Not a chance, Malfoy, I’ve waited months for this.” 

“Then stop teasing me, Granger,” I whispered against her ear, “Or I’ll find a dark corner and show you exactly what I want that hand to do.” 

And  _fuck_ , the mischievous glint in her eye told me she knew exactly what she was doing to me. She bit her lip again, a tiny smirk pulling up the sides of her mouth, her fingers teasing the hair on my navel. 

“Maybe if you ask nicely, she’ll let you touch it.” 

My eyes went wide and she looked over my shoulder in the direction of the voice and began to laugh. I shifted slightly to see two girls behind us, looking at Granger with a touch of longing and a hint of jealousy.

“Sorry,” one of them said looking guilty at having been caught, “But,  _christ_ , he has the most perfect arse.”

“He does,” Granger agreed, “And sorry ladies, but there’s no chance in hell you’re getting your hands on him. He’s all mine.”   

They both sighed, and nodded. “Do you have a brother?” 

“Sorry, no.” I looked at Granger who was grinning like an idiot, “I’m one of a kind.”

“Bugger,” the girl said and turned back to the bar. 

“What the fuck was that?” I asked as Granger turned us around, moving me away from the possibility of any roaming hands.  

“ _That_  was what I have to deal with when it comes to you.” 

“They weren’t serious, were they?”

“Maybe, I mean who wouldn’t want to touch this?” She shrugged and pinched my arse, “It’s what I look forward to seeing most.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned, “You can’t say things like that.” 

The flirty smile was back, “Why, does it do things to you?”

I took her hand and pressed it against the front of my jeans, hoping that it was dark enough that no one noticed. Her eyes went wide and I gave her a look that told her I would much prefer to be out of my jeans and in my bed with her thanstanding in a crowded club. 

“Shit,” she whispered, “Sorry. I should stop teasing you.”

I tapped her chin playfully with one finger, “Don’t you dare.”

* * *

 

We had drunk three more rounds, and the warm flush in Grangers cheeks was matched by the pleasant hum in my veins. Her smile had grown wider and her hand never left me; touching my chest, gripping the hem of my t-shirt in her fist, tracing her fingers across my bicep as she spoke. The ease of her touch, the way we spoke and laughed, it certainly didn’t feel like a fourth date, and I had to admit, I was loving the fact that it all felt – and  I was sure, looked – like we’d been together for years.  

“What should I expect tonight?” I asked as she pulled me towards the stage, drink in hand, anticipation building in her.

She looked over her shoulder at me, her eyebrow raised and I grinned. “The music, Granger,” I said and pointed at the stage, “Get your head out of the gutter.” 

“You pressed my hand against your dick, whose head is in the gutter?” 

“Did you like it?” 

She laughed, “Okay, stop. I have to deal with you in this,” She twisted my shirt in her fist, “I can’t handle the flirting as well. You can expect some awesome music, possibly some acoustic, possibly some covers, possibly something loud and screaming and rough.” 

“I like the sound of loud, screaming and rough.” 

“One track mind.” She said slapping my chest, “But, yes, I’m sure you will love the sounds of loud and screaming and rough.” 

I pulled her against me so her back was pressing into my chest, and I gripped her hips firmly, “Is this the music you want playing when I get rough, and you’re loud and screaming on our last date?” 

Her breath caught, but she didn’t respond. At that precise moment two men appeared on the stage and the crowd erupted into noise I’d never heard the likes of in my life. Cheering, whistles, and even a few screams pierced the air, and caused me to jump. And when one – I assumed the main performer - greeted the crowd with  _How the fuck is everyone,_  I instantly knew I liked him. It was honest in a way that felt like he was one of us, no pretentiousness, no ego, just one of the crowd.  

And after a short conversation between him and his fellow performer, they started playing, and I felt Granger almost vibrating against me. 

It was, as she had described, acoustic guitar, but the sound seemed to be layered together in a way that I could hardly believe possible. The sound was pure, and raw, and it surged into me, making my skin tingle and my hair stand on end. The sound filled the room, every inch of air seeming to have been replaced with the notes pouring from the two guitars in front of me. 

And the vocals astounded me. They didn’t seem possible. The singer looked scruffy, covered in tattoos, dressed similarly to everyone around us; t-shirt, ripped jeans, and sneakers, but his voice was like nothing I had ever heard. Rough and gravelly in one song, smooth and rich in the next, and it was almost too much. The sounds, the lyrics, the simple lights shining out onto the crowd, the way Granger sang every word in every song, the way she moved gently across me as if not wanting to be apart from me, the way her head bobbed in time with the heavier songs,  the way she reached behind me, pulling me closer. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Bands in our world were nothing like this, this was raw energy and was how music should sound. 

The singer interacted easily with the crowd, which seemed to grow wilder as each song progressed, until the air felt electric and I began to move with her, finding it impossible not to. 

Granger looked over her shoulder at me, smiling, and I grinned back. Somehow she knew. She knew that I had never seen nor heard anything like this, but instinctively she knew I would love it. I pressed my lips against her neck in a silent  _thank you,_  and she squeezed my thigh. I slid my hand beneath her t-shirt, splaying my fingers across her stomach, just needing to feel her bare skin, and she seemed to understand, covering my hand with hers, only the thin material separating us. 

And I knew instantly, this was our future. Quiet libraries, busy art galleries, loud clubs. It was a heady mix that had my already tuned nerves jumping, and I forced myself to focus on the stage and the music, rather than the woman who was currently turning my world upside down.

* * *

Two and half hours later, we emerged into the night, the cool air bracing after the heat of the club. She insisted that we walk, and I agreed; the energy bouncing off her was double for me, and I was sure that if we disapparated back to my flat, I wouldn’t be able to hold back from dragging her inside and forgetting our last date.

Her arm wrapped around my lower back as we walked, and I circled her shoulders, holding her close and listening to her ramble on and on about the show. 

“Did you like it?” She looked up at me, hope in her eyes. 

“Granger, that was... _shit_ ,” I turned my eyes to the night sky, trying to find the words, but I couldn’t. 

“I know,” She said and hugged her arm around me tighter, “I was worried, but I think I got it right.”

I kissed her temple, “You got it right and then some.”

“Yeah?” she still sounded wary.  
  
“Yeah,” I said, “Granger, that music, it was so simple, yet it was so intense. I’ve heard nothing like it in my life. I certainly hope we do that again.”

She smiled, and then ducked her head in the way I loved. I stopped walking and pulled her into a nearby doorway, turning her to face me, leaning towards her and simply breathing her in. 

She threaded her fingers through my hair, murmuring my name and pulling me into a kiss so deep that it turned the warmth in my blood to fire, and I was done for. I gripped her tightly and disapparated us to my flat. I shoved the door open and had her on the floor of my hallway before the door slammed shut.

Shoes were kicked off, landing blindly with dull thuds and she grasped at my t-shirt as I dragged it over my head. I tossed it across the room before tugging her jeans down her legs, tossing them in the same direction. She arched her back, allowing me to free her from her own top, revealing the black lace that I had been jealous of just hours ago. 

I covered her body with mine, leaning on my forearms and kissing her, sucking at her tongue, her jaw, her neck, all the while,in the deepest part of my brain, I was yelling at myself to stop, to not break the rules. But the way she was reacting - her hands gripping my hips, her legs wrapping around me - I couldn’t be arsed to care. 

“Draco,” she breathed and shoved at my chest, rolling us so she sat up over me. Her hands immediately went to work on my belt, freeing it from the buckle and then dragged my jeans down my hips. She looked up at me, eyes wide. 

“Do you have an issue with underwear?” 

I laughed, “Yeah, I hate it.” 

“Well, you had better get used to it.” She wrapped her hand around my cock and I sucked in a breath.

“Why?” I groaned.

“Because I don’t want any other woman looking down and seeing this swinging free in your trousers.”

I laughed again, but swallowed the sound when she glared at me, and I relented, “Fine, underwear.” 

Time stood still as we simply stared at each other. I could see her face in the moonlight, the indecision, the torment, the wonder in her own eyes at just what was happening. 

“We can stop,” I said more calmly than I felt. 

She nodded, and my chest constricted. I hadn’t truly meant it. I wanted her to keep going, to do whatever she pleased - as long as that didn’t mean stopping. 

She glanced down at my cock in her hand, and my stomach clenched as her tongue darted out and wetted her lips. She looked back at me and I noted the bob in her throat as she swallowed, the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing picked up. She hesitated slightly, before shifting down my thighs and leaning in slowly, kissing a spot just below my belly button. I sucked in a breath at the sensation of the touch of her lips on me, and my head hit the floor with a thump. 

She pressed her lips to me again, lower this time, kissing her way down the trail of hair on my abdomen.  

“ _Shit_ ,” I gasped and her eyes flicked up to mine, questioning. I nodded, and she continued, kissing to where my cock arched from my body, rigid and ready. 

“Is this okay?” she murmured against my hip. 

“Yes,” I wheezed when she wrapped her hand around me again. “This is perfect.”

I pulsed in her hand, her fingers were light, almost tickling, touching and stroking, and my brain suddenly clouded as she stroked over the tip with the perfect pressure. She wrapped her palm around me and my foreskin slid over the head as she dragged her hand over me, stroking slowly up and down, and the cloud in my brain turned to complete fog.

Her palm was smooth and soft, and my cock was harder than it had been in, well, ever. I let out a low moan when her thumb traced down the underside and along the throbbing vein and I felt a dribble of precum spill from the tip, groaning again when her thumb caught the drip and slicked it over the head. 

She glanced up, and a smile curled the corner of her mouth, and there was no hesitation as she took me between her lips, my cock twitching and my balls tightening at the wet warmth of her mouth.

“Granger,” I breathed and closed my eyes, feeling the swirl of her tongue around the tip and then the hard suction as she took me deeper into her mouth. 

Down and up and back down again, her head bobbed slowly, her hands reaching for my hips and holding tightly as her mouth stretched around me. She moaned, and I grunted when her tongue twisted and twirled on every up-stroke, and then I swore, loudly, when she took me in deeper, her tongue caressing my shaft as she buried her face against my navel.  

She pulled back, gasping, her eyes watery, and I stared down at her, awestruck. The pleasure of this, the pure and absolute pleasure of her mouth on me was indescribable.  

She traced light circles over my hips, and then she ran her fingers along the insides of my thighs. I shuddered, involuntarily, and she smirked, her fingertips brushing lightly, teasingly, over my balls. 

“Granger...fucking...Merlin,  _fuck_!” my breath rushed out on an exhale as she cupped me in her warm palm, and I whimpered – actually whimpered – as she kneaded gently. She leaned forward, and I whimpered again when her tongue flicked out, grazing lightly over my tight sac while her hand continued to squeeze and caress.

And just when I thought I couldn’t get any more aroused, she shifted, pressing kisses along the length of me and across the tip, her lips perfect and soft. Her hands moved back to my stomach, her swollen lips softly murmuring my name as she drew me back in, her teeth grazing the overly-sensitive head. 

I felt lightheaded, almost drunk on her scent, on the feel of her mouth around me, as she took me in again, and again, and again. 

I slipped my hands into her hair, tangling my fingers loosely into it, meeting her eyes with mine. She nodded, and I lifted my hips, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. She groaned, a heady sound that was mix of pleasure and relief, as if she’d been waiting her entire life to do this. 

I closed my eyes and groaned quietly as her mouth sucked a little harder and I thrust a little deeper, her tongue sliding around me as I worked myself in and out of her mouth. I could have died right then, and died happy. I had never in my life felt so aroused, so hot and heavy, so ready to release.  

Her hands left my stomach, moving back down to cup my balls again, and I let out a choked breath, jerking my hips and gripping her hair tighter. She drew back, her mouth hot, sucking hard and a desperate sound vibrated around me.  

“Watch me,” she whispered and I opened my eyes to look at her, swallowing as I watched her lips close around me, feeling her tongue swirl around the head again before sucking and taking me in deeper and deeper.  

I wanted to close my eyes again, wanted to just feel the way her mouth worked; licking, sucking, tasting, teasing. I wanted to simply luxuriate in the perfection that was her mouth on me. But her eyes were locked on mine, and I was sure that if I did close my eyes, this would stop.  

“Your mouth.  _Fucking_....” But my words were lost.I traced her jaw with one finger and moved my hips, rolling in a steady rhythm matching her mouth, and I was struck at just how perfectly we moved together. It was easy with her, natural, a feeling of familiarity and yet a whole new sensation and I lost myself in the smooth, decadent slide of her hot, wet mouth; the pinch of her nails in the flesh of my inner thigh; the tiny vibrations of her throat as she moaned with each gentle thrust. 

I groaned her name. I was close, ridiculously so, and I groaned again when her mouth moved faster, as if sensing my impending release. I gripped her head, stopping her movements and holding her face against my abdomen. Her fingers dug into my hips and my cock swelled in her mouth. Ithrust once, twice and then shuddered, growling loudly and coming in her mouth without even considering if she had wanted me to or not.  

I closed my eyes, releasing my grip on her hair, and thumped my head back to the floor. I felt her swallow and then the suction of her mouth as she slowly withdrew, her tongue licking the tip one last time. Her lips pressed to my hip and I let out a shaky breath as she leaned her forehead on my stomach. She was breathing hard, her hands reaching up to trace circles over my chest. 

“Alright?” I asked quietly and she nodded against me. I smoothed the backs of my fingers across her cheek and she looked up at me, a shy, nervous smile on her face.  

“That was…unexpected.” I smiled down at her. 

“Sorry,” she said and buried her face in my stomach again.

“No, I didn’t mean…” I cupped her face, “That was perfect.  _Shit_ , you were – are – perfect.” 

“I just...” She giggled and turned her face to kiss my palm, “I got carried away. I guess I broke the rules.” 

“Believe me when I say, I don’t mind at all.” I slipped my finger under her bra strap and slowly pulled it down her arm, “So, did we just skip ahead to the last date?” 

She smiled at me again, her hair was a mess – more so than usual – her lips red and swollen. She wrapped her fingers around my wrist and gently moved my hand away, “No. I just...I wanted to do this for you.”

“Granger,” I began but she stopped me.

“Draco, really, this was for you.” 

I reached out and pulled her to me, kissing her. “Are you sure? We don’t have to have sex. I can use my mouth on you.” 

She smiled, “As much as I want that, I still want the last date with you, before we...do anything more.”

I kissed her forehead, holding back my laughter at her sudden embarrassment. “Alright, but I think we might have to change the rules a bit.” 

She eyed me suspiciously, “Change them, how?” 

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and slid my thumb across her lips, laughing as she gently but down on it. “Stay with me?” 

She pulled back to look at me, “Draco, I know I did…that…but I still want to wait.” 

I kissed her forehead, “I know. I just don’t want you to leave, that’s all. Stay here with me, please? Sleep in my bed, and I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” 

She remained silent, considering my offer before finally nodding her consent. I stood, seeing the clothes strewn across the floor and chuckled. I held my hand out and helped her off the floor. “I could get used to this.” 

She pressed up on her toes and kissed me, “Me too.” 

I took her hand, and then frowned when she bent back down to grab my t-shirt off the floor.

 **“** I need something to sleep in.” She explained. 

I let my eyes roam over her, taking in the black lace that covered her tits, and the tiny matching thong. “I have no issues if you want to sleep in that.” 

She looked down at herself, “Of course you wouldn’t. What about you?”

I followed her gaze and laughed, realising how comfortable I was being completely naked with her. “And I have no issues with this either.” 

I led her to my bedroomandshowed her the bathroom. She smiled at me and then closed the door, leaving me to simply imagine her naked form behind it. I found a pair of sleep pants for myself and changed into them. I preferred to sleep naked, but my promise was solid and as much as I joked about it, I wouldn’t make her uncomfortable. 

When she emerged, I couldn’t help but look down at her legs. She rolled her eyes at me and I laughed. “Can you blame me?” 

“What happened to being a gentleman?” She rounded the bed and pulled back the covers, looking as natural and at home as I had ever dared to imagine. 

“Gentlemen still look,” I explained and climbed in beside her, “And I only said I would be a gentleman in this bed.” 

She rolled to her side and I mirrored her pose. “Is this weird?”

“A little,” I admitted, “Certainly not how I imagined the first time I had you in my bed would be.”

“How did you imagine it?” She barely held back the smirk that curled her lips.

I rolled to my back and groaned, “I’m being a gentleman. You can’t ask me that.”

She laughed and surprised me when she tucked herself into my side, her chin resting over my shoulder, her arm wrapping around my middle. She sighed and I closed my eyes, relaxing into her. This may not have been how I imagined this first time being, but I had to admit, feeling her warmth, the easy rise and fall of her chest, the scent of her light perfume, this was near perfection. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for the smut...so this was a tease of what’s to come xx
> 
> Again, much like Trinity College, It’s been I while since I’ve been to The Garage in London. I did get to see some awesome acts years ago, and I’m sure it has changed, so I’m going by my (hazy) memory. 
> 
> And yes, Corey Taylor is from Slipknot, but he does some amazing acoustics, brilliant covers, and in my opinion, he can sing like nobody’s business.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

 

******* HERMIONE *******

* * *

 

"Hermione?" Draco's assistant looked mildly alarmed at my surprise arrival. She looked at the ledger on her desk and then back up at me, her eyes clearly panicked at not seeing my name there. "Were you supposed to have a meeting with him today?"

"No, and don't panic, Claudia," I smiled at her, she was easily as efficient as Owen and I felt guilty for her concern that she might have missed a scheduled meeting. It was rare that I just showed up – actually I had  _never_ just turned up – so I hoped that she didn't find it odd. "I just wondered if he a minute spare. I just need to go over something with him. And it's perfectly fine if he's not free."

"Oh," she looked relieved. "He's not with anyone right now, so I'll check." She tapped the crystal ball on her desk and a green fog swirled inside it.

"Yes?" Draco's voice sounded from inside it.

"Ms. Granger is here to see you, Mr Malfoy," she said smiling up at me, "Do you have a minute?"

"Ah, yes. Of course." His voice was calm, but I could hear the pleasure underneath.

"Great, I'll send her—"

His office door flew open, cutting her off and he stood looking at me, his face a picture of neutrality, but I could see the delight in his eyes. "Granger. Good to see you again. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Thank you, Claudia," I nodded at his assistant who was frowning in his direction and then followed him into his office, closing the door behind me. "Way to be covert you id—"

His mouth was on mine, his hands cupping my face, and I couldn't help but sigh. His kiss wasn't deep or hard, just a sweet, lingering press of his lips to mine.

"Hi," He said when he pulled away, smiling down at me.

"Hi." I said, touching his lips with my fingers. "You're still an idiot."

He laughed, "Sorry, but I got a little excited that you were here without me knowing."

"Well," I said hesitantly, "Maybe you should hold that excitement in check."

"That sounds ominous." He said and moved back to perch on the edge of his desk, folding his arms over his chest.

I pulled a piece of parchment from my bag, and held it up. It was the piece of parchment that had arrived that morning. The piece of parchment that detailed our fifth date. "I'm sorry, but Saturday is out."

He balked, " _Uh,_ what?"

"Did you forget about Luna's hens do?" I stepped closer to him, touching his forearm.

"It's on Friday...isn't it?"

I shook my head, "No. Neville's stag do is Friday. Luna's hen's is Saturday. I didn't say anything because I thought you knew."

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no words came out.

"Sorry," I said again and unfolded his arms, wrapping my own around his middle, "I'd have to be sick or dying to get out of it without raising any suspicion."

He nodded, his calm face belying the disappointment that was coming off him in waves.

"Hey," I said gently, "I'm not cancelling this date, just postponing it. We can do it another day, I'm not going anywhere."

His hands slid absently around my lower back, "I know. I just..." He let out a long breath, "This was date five. I've been anticipating this since we started. And it's not about the possibility of sex, it was about finally letting everyone know that we are  _us."_

"The  _possibility_ of sex?" I knew he was being serious, but I couldn't resist teasing him, "I'm certain that sex on this date is a sure thing."

He stared at me with a calm expression, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth, "I didn't want to presume. And honestly, I don't care if it isn't. I told Blaise that I like being with you - sex or no sex - and I meant it. It's easy to be with you and you're more fun to be with than I realised. And I guess that's what this date was going to be about."

My own disappointment curled inside me. I had assumed that he would have planned something big and outlandish, but the thought of simple and fun with him was a much better prospect than a loud, drunken night with the girls. Not that I'd miss Luna's night out, but I wished it had been any other night, and the thought of having to wait pained me as much as it did him.

I looked at him thoughtfully, "You asked me to be at your place, what did you have planned?"

He shrugged, "I wanted to keep it a surprise."

"And you don't have to tell me, but," I smiled at him, "Are we staying in, or are doing something away from there? Is it something we can do on Sunday?"

"Staying in," He leaned his forehead on mine, "And while I didn't want to assume anything, part of my plan was to hopefully spend Sunday in bed with you."

"That sounds perfect." I lifted my hand to his cheek, "Can you take Monday off?"

He pulled his head back and arched an eyebrow at me, "Can  _you?"_

"Owen already made sure my schedule is clear." I ran my thumb over his lip, "I thought I might need a few days."

His hands slipped lower, coming to rest on my arse, and he smiled, "I told you I liked you, didn't I?"

I bit my lip and shook my head, giving him a wide-eyed innocent look, "No. I don't believe I've ever heard you say that."

"Well, I do," he kissed me again, "I like you. I like you very much."

"Good, because I like you very much too." I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I am sorry, Draco. I was looking forward to what you were planning for this date."

"No, this isn't your fault. I shouldn't have assumed that they'd be doing their pre-wedding parties on the same night." He leaned in and instinctively I tilted my head to the side, allowing him to kiss along my neck. "And what I have planned will still work on Sunday."

"What's that." I asked, breaking from the moment and leaning across his desk. I'd been in his office on many occasions but had never noticed the small statue that had caught my eye. I picked it up, staring at it for a few seconds, and then looked up at him, "Why do you have an otter on your desk?"

He looked at the small statue in my hand, his mouth twisting into a smile. "Otters are one of my favourite animals. Not only are they hilarious and playful, they are loyal to their family group, are doggedly persistent and tenacious, and despite their small size, have been known to take on much larger, much more aggressive animals and come out on top."

I wondered if he knew. I assumed that he did, he seemed to know everything about me, but I didn't want to make a big deal about it.

He took it from my hand and smiled at it, "It's been sitting on my desk for almost two years now, and is a daily reminder to not give up."

I held my surprise in check. Maybe he  _didn't_ know. "Do you need a reminder to not give up?"

"I used to," he looked at the figure and then back up me, "But not anymore."

"Mr Malfoy?" The orb on his desk swirl green as Claudia's voice spoke, "Sorry to interrupt, but Mr Breakwell is here."

He looked at me and sighed, his shoulders slumping, "I guess ten minutes with you is better than nothing."

I kissed him, holding my mouth against his for several long seconds, "Four more days and you can have me any time you want."

He grinned, "I do very much like the sound of that."

* * *

 

The club was dark and the music loud, strobe lights flickered across the sea of bodies that crowded the dance floor moving in time with the pounding baselines.

I watched from my seat at the table, laughing as Pansy grabbed Ginny as she spun way too fast, righting her and hugging her, saying something that had Ginny cracking up with laughter. Luna floated past them, clearly dancing to the beat in her own head, as opposed to the thumping beats all around her, and Angelina and Hannah had both attracted an audience, if the wide-eyed looks from the group of guys at the side of the dance floor were anything to go by.

I watched, smiling, as Katie Bell made her way through the throng of writhing bodies and landed heavily beside me. She leaned against me and grinned.

"Why are you all the way over here?" Her voice was raspy and slurred, a heady combination of too much Vodka and too much scream-singing. "When the party's out there."

I kissed the top of Katie's head, "Because it's so much more fun sitting here watching you all make arses of yourselves."

Her grin changed to a snorted laugh, the sound of which only made her laugh – and snort – more. "If you get out there with us," She finally said after she managed to control her laughter, "Every guy in this place will be looking at your arse and thinking about just how hot you'd look out of that dress."

"Who says they're not already," Daphne said as she sat opposite us and slid a drink across to me. I raised an eyebrow in question and she said  _Screwdriver,_ which set Katie off again.

I looked at Daphne who shook her head and laughed. Draco had thoughtfully sent a pepper-up potion by owl that morning, and a note telling me to enjoy my night, but I had decided that I would stay reasonably sober along with her, and going by the state of our party, it had been a wise decision. Apparition with this lot would be near impossible, so the good old muggle cabs would be needed to get us all home.

A sudden shiver went down my spine, the distinct feeling that I was being watched washed over me. I twisted in my seat but saw nothing through the darkened club. I shook my head and turned back to find Daphne frowning at me.

"I feel like I'm being watched." I explained.

She laughed, "Um, I think every guy in the place is watching you."

I looked down at my dress and then grinned back up at her, "Inappropriate?"

"Oh, no," Daphne said, "That dress is hotter than the sun. And I'm sure that there would be one guy in particular who would love to see you in it…or out of it."

"Oh, please." I said and rolled my eyes, peering back over my shoulder, the feeling of someone watching me was disconcerting. I couldn't place it, but it felt like a single pair of eyes were boring into me.

_Just fucking great._

The last thing I needed was to have a guy hitting on me in a club in front of my friends, and then having to explain to them why I rejected him.

"Maybe he's hot, and you can take him home and fuck his brains out." A wicked grin crossed Katie's drunken face.

Daphne burst out laughing and I raised an amused eyebrow at her, "Who's hot?"

"The guy who's watching you." She slurred.

I turned and looked over my shoulder again, thinking that Katie had seen someone I hadn't, but I couldn't make out any faces that were deliberately looking my way.

Daphne reached across the table a patted Katie's hand, "I don't think there's anyone actually watching her, sweetie."

"Oh," Katie said looking disappointed, and then smiled brightly and slid off the seat. She grabbed my arm and yanked me sideways, "Then you have no reason to not shake that sweet arse of yours and find some hot guy to take home with you. Come on!"

I sighed.

"Fine, I'll shake my arse," I relented, "But I'm not going home with some random guy."

* * *

 

My legs felt like jelly when I made my way to the bar to order the next round of drinks. Tequila shots, they had told me as they all fell over each other at the table, and Daphne had winced, shaking her head subtly at me. And I had to agree. They were messy enough without adding Tequila to the mix, but they had insisted.

I leaned over the bar, slapping my hand on the dark wood, trying to get the bartenders attention, and a sudden shiver went down my spine, the feeling that I was being watched washed over me again. I scanned the bar, and my heart leapt when my gaze spotted a very familiar pair of eyes boring into me.

He lifted his glass, tipping it towards me, and giving me a smile that had my cheeks heating up.

"What can I get you?"

I blinked up at the bartender, my mind having gone completely blank. "Huh?"

He rolled his eyes at me, assuming I was drunk, "Did you want a drink?"

"Oh, yes!" I winced, " _Ah,_  six tequila shots."

He raised an eyebrow at me and I smiled, "Hey, I'm the sober one," I turned and pointed at the table of my friends, "These are for them."

He looked over my shoulder seeming to count our number and realising that there actually eight of us, nodded, and moved back down the bar. I deliberately kept my eyes on him, watching as the shots were poured and refusing to look up, all the time wondering what the hell he was doing here. I paid the bartender and picked up the tray of shots, carefully carrying them to the table.

I touched Daphne's shoulder, leaning down close to her ear, "Watch them, yeah? I just have to duck to the loo."

She nodded and shook her head as the six of them toasted Luna and then downed the shots.

I headed back across the club, and I felt a heavy weight creep across my chest.  _Why was he here? How did he even know we were here?_

I walked past him, eyeing him quickly and then walked down the dark hallway that led to the bathrooms. I knew he was following me, could feel his presence a few paces behind me. And when I reached the end, I stepped into the small alcove and turned to face him.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed.

He stepped closer and I couldn't help but breathe him in. He smelled like warm honey, like sandalwood and sage, a scent that was becoming all too familiar. And the warmth in my belly when he leaned even closer and kissed the corner of my mouth was all too familiar as well.

"I wanted to see you," He said, his eyes roaming over me, his finger tracing down my arm, drawing a shiver, "And with good reason."

I slapped his hand away, "What the hell does that mean?"

"Hey," he said softly, "I just meant you look amazing."

"Oh," I smiled apologetically, "So you like it?"

"You're a fucking tease, Granger." He said, "And  _like_ is probably not the right word. Although, I'd say almost every guy here likes it too."

"Draco," I pressed my hand to his chest, "You have nothing to worry about."

"I know," He said and his eyes roamed over me again, "But,  _shit,_  look at you."

I ran my hand over my simple black mini dress. The halter-neck hid my chest, but the hem of the skirt sat high on my thighs, and that was where his eyes had dropped to. "So, you couldn't wait one day?" I said reaching out to tilt his face back to mine, "One whole day?"

"It's been three days, actually," He said stepping even closer and I took a step back and hit the wall behind me. "And I saw you dancing out there, as did every other horny male in the place."

I ran my hand down his chest, "Jealous, again?"

"That will never change when it comes to you."

"You're too smooth for your own good, do you know that?" I gripped his shirt in my fist, suddenly wanting to be only with him, but knowing I couldn't leave without an explanation to the girls. "How is it that you knew we were here?"

"Blaise," He said, "He didn't want to tell me, but I think he weighed up the possibility of you finding out he  _didn't_ tell me and, well...I think he's slightly terrified of you."

I laughed, "So he should be, but this is risky, what if one of them had seen you?"

He shrugged, "Going by the state they're all in, I doubt they can see past their noses."

"Daphne's sober," I said, "And she's just as invested in this happening as the rest of them, she just hides it better."

He leaned against me, his mouth skating across my jaw, "They'll know soon enough."

I hummed as he pressed a kiss below my ear, another to my shoulder, and I wanted to say  _to hell with it_ and leave with him.

" _Well, well._ Isn't this interesting?"

Both our heads snapped up to find Daphne grinning at us.

"And here I was thinking you had been accosted by some random guy and needed rescuing."

"Daphne...I,  _ah_...we...that is to say... _um_..." I shoved at Draco's chest, but he didn't move, he simply grinned at me.

"Hey, Daph," Draco said, "Are you having a good night?"

"Oh, it's been brilliant, and it just got even better," Daphne laughed, "But I don't have time to wonder what the hell is going on here, because you have about twelve seconds to get out of here Draco, Ginny and Pansy are stumbling this way."

He nodded, kissed me quickly and noting that no one was around, stepped deeper into the alcove and disappeared instantly.

"Daphne, not a word, please?" I straightened my dress, and tried to calm my racing pulse.

She nodded, "Not a word, I promise. But there's an explanation, I'm sure?"

"There is, and I'll tell you, but—"

"Hey!" Pansy cried and engulfed me, "We thought you went home with some hottie."

"As long as that hottie is Draco!" Ginny said, her voice slurred.

"Draco wouldn't come to a muggle club, Gin," Pansy looked around and then frowned, "Why the fuck are we in a muggle club?"

"For shits and giggles," Ginny said and they both burst out laughing at what had become Ginny's favourite phrase.

"Shits and giggles," Pansy repeated between gasps of drunken laughter, "Is that where you shit when you giggle, or where you giggle when you shit?!"

"Oh, geez," I groaned, "We're not having this discussion again. It might be time to leave."

"No!" They both sang in unison.

"What if Draco turns up?" Ginny asked, "He'll hit on some other girl and you'll miss out on getting fucked again."

Daphne snorted and then looked at me, the grin had yet to leave her face. "No hotties, ladies, and definitely no Draco, but Hermione is right; I think it's time to get you all home."

* * *

 

"That was a very interesting evening we had."

Daphne was perched at my kitchen counter while I made tea. We'd managed to wrangle the girls into cabs and get them all home the previous night , but she had refused to let me go without telling me she'd be round mine first thing in the morning.

I smiled and nodded, not meeting her eyes, "Yes. I don't doubt there'll be a few sore heads this morning."

She gave me an incredulous look and I shook my head. I wasn't getting out of this, no matter how light I made of it. But I honestly didn't know what to tell her or,  _hell_ , even where to start. Getting caught certainly hadn't been a part of our plan.

"What do you want to know?" I finally said.

"Are you kidding?" She laughed, "How long have the two of you been together?"

I placed her cup in front of her and then sat beside her. "We're not together, at least not officially."

She touched my arm gently, "By what I saw, I don't think  _officially_ matters. You're clearly together."

"I guess we are," I said, "And it's been about five weeks."

"Five weeks?" Her eyes went wide, " _Five_  weeks? Why haven't you said anything?"

I laughed, "Oh really? And you and Ron waited how long before you told us?"

"Good point." She shrugged, "But you and Draco? This is..." she paused and then grinned, "You know Pansy and Ginny are going to freak out."

"And that's why we've waited," I sighed. "Daphne, I like him. I mean, I  _really_ like him. He's so different from the boy he was at school. He's kind, and he cares, and he's amazingly sweet."

She smiled at me, "Sweet? Draco Malfoy?  _Really?"_

"Yes. And he'll hate me for saying it, but it's true."

"So this was this after..." she trailed off, her eyebrows pinching together, as if a sudden thought occurred to her. "Wait, you said five weeks?"

I nodded, wincing already at whatever thought had occurred to her.

"So when we had lunch last month, and you promised to consider going out with him, you were already seeing him?"

My face heated and I looked down at my knees, " _Ah_ , no. Well, not really."

"Which is it; no or not really?"

I looked back up at her, and she was smiling. There was no judgement in her eyes, just the genuine curiosity of a friend.

"Okay," I sighed and leaned my elbow on the counter, "We hooked up the week before our lunch, but I was still nervous about him, so we agreed to five dates before we told anyone."

"And by hooked up you mean..."

"In his office," I felt my cheeks heat up again, "Against the door."

Her eyes went wide for second and then she cracked up laughing, "Oh, this is more brilliant than I imagined."

I looked at her and saw the delight on her face. She wasn't pissed off that I had lied to her, or that I had hidden this from them all. She was simply enjoying the fact that this had finally happened.

"Walk me through this," she said when she calmed down, "Start from the beginning."

I sipped my tea and took a deep breath, and then told her everything. I told her about the tryst in his office, about how I had avoided him for three days until he showed up in the cafe and then how we'd made our five date agreement in my office. I told her how I'd let him get me off in the library, and that I'd spent the night in his bed after the concert. I admitted I was shocked at our first dates, shocked that he lived as much in the muggle world as he did, shocked that he was, as I had said, kind and caring and sweet.

The look of delight on her face changed to a knowing smirk, "He's amazing in bed, isn't he? Please tell me the stories are true."

"I don't actually know," I said, "Other than his office, we've not had sex on any of our dates."

"What? Why?" Her face held a similar expression to Draco's when I had set the rules.

"I guess I was still nervous about him." I admitted. "So I made a 'no sex' rule."

"And why were you nervous about him?"

"I know he's changed, but," I shrugged, "He was a bigot and a bully. He said some truly awful things to Harry, Ron and me. I guess it was always in the back of my mind that he will tell me this is all a joke and go back to being that person again."

"Have you talked to him about this?" She asked and I shook my head, "Hermione, he was raised in such a despicable way, we all were, Pansy, Blaise and myself included. And there are no excuses for our behaviour. I mean Ron and Ginny come from as long a pure-blood line as the rest of us, and we still treated them like crap. But you have to know that even before the war started, Draco had begun to question where his allegiance lay, he began to question his upbringing and his morals, and essentially everything about himself."

"I know," I sipped my tea again and stared at the cup. "And I know five weeks isn't a long time, but this - he - is so much more than I expected"

She smiled at me and patted my hand, "You honestly think that this has been only going on for five weeks?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hermione, in case you haven't noticed, Draco hasn't been with anyone for over a year. In fact, he hasn't even looked at another woman since you split with Miles. This, my dear, has been going on since the first time he made a filthy comment to you."

A smile split my face: I knew it was the truth.

"This really is great, by the way," she said, "You deserve to have someone to spoil you. And, despite you being Miss Independent, I'm sure you know that he'll take care of you."

I nodded, she was mirroring the thoughts that had been a constant in my mind since he pressed me against his office door— _this man is good for you, don't let him go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a great big thank you to you all for reading and reviewing. I love reading your thoughts, comments and suggestions, it encourages me to write more.
> 
> xx


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

 

****** DRACO ******

* * *

 

It had been a week of risks - her randomly showing up at my office and me acting like an idiot; me wanting details of where she would be, and then turning up and basically stalking her. And then Daphne finding us. Yes, it had definitely been a week of risks.

And now I was about to take the biggest risk of all. I'd gone beyond what she had expected with Trinity College; had surprised her even more with The National Gallery; even the flying lesson had been a resounding success, and the club and what happened after was beyond anything I had expected. But this, date number five, the date that would put an end to all the secrecy and I could finally tell the world she was mine, was the most important of them all

However, what I had planned was not a big, grand gesture. Far from it. She knew I loved art, knew the calm it brought me, but this was something else entirely. It was a different type of quiet and calm and I hoped that after the noise and the lights and the music at club she wouldn't hate it.

But I wanted to show her who I really was, wanted to show her that I didn't need to do big and flashy. I wanted to show her a different side of me, to show her how simple I actually liked my life to be. And what I had planned was possibly even more personal than taking her to the gallery and admitting my love for art.

I knew that she had feelings for me that went past these five dates - she had all but assured me that we would be together after this final date - but I also knew that her feelings were nothing in comparison to the feelings I had for her. Feelings that went well beyond fucking her against my office door; or touching her in a library; or having her lips sliding over my cock on my hallway floor. No, this certainly wasn't just about sex. My feelings ran much deeper than any of those things.

I wanted her in my life every day, and in my bed every night. I wanted to wake up to her scent, I wanted her to reach out and touch me in the way that in such a short time had become natural. I wanted to feel the press of her lips on mine when she left for work in the morning, and then the rambling stories of her day when she returned each night. And even more than all of that, I wanted to be tied eternally to her. And I wanted the entire word to know that she was mine, and that they should all look away.

The last weeks had been like torture having to watch how the eyes of other men would linger over her. I had seen it all before and hated it, but now those looks made my blood boil, and I hated even more that I could do nothing about it.

I smiled to myself, and my heart sped up and the thought that after tonight, I would no longer have to stand by and watch. I would be able to tell them all to sod off, to stop looking at her, that she was taken, that I was the only one who was allowed to look at her.

The knock on my door made my smile even wider, and my cock stirred in my jeans. I took a deep breath, telling myself to calm down and not to ravage her as she came through the door.

She wore a pale pink pullover and fitted jeans. Her hair was down, hanging in loose curls over her shoulders. She looked comfortable, casual, like I had told her, and completely adorable.

"Hello," I said, pressing a kiss to each side of her mouth and a long, lingering one in the middle. And then I kissed her once more, simply because I could. "You look beautiful."

She twisted my t-shirt in her fist, "I thought you were going to burn this."

"Well," I mused, "After having you sleep in it, I had second thoughts."

"Hmm," she hummed and slid her hands across my chest, leaning in and pressing her nose to my collar. "It will smell like you when I put it on in the morning."

I groaned, "You're barely in the door and already I want to shove you against the wall."

She shot me a playful look, "You can, you know. I'm perfectly fine with being shoved against walls...or doors."

"Not yet," I laughed and kissed her again, "I have plans, and I don't want them ruined."

"How does sex against a wall ruin any plans?" she asked as I took her hand and led her down the hallway.

"Well," I said, "Walls don't necessarily ruin plans, but if you get naked now, we'll spend the entire evening in bed, and you'll miss out on the spectacular surprise I have for you."

She looked around my living room and raised an eyebrow, "Spectacular, you say."

"You don't like my living room?" I teased, following her gaze around the room. We'd eaten breakfast the previous Sunday at my kitchen counter, and afterwards we'd talked for hours sprawled on my couch. But I sensed that her expectations of what I had planned were more than my living room looking exactly as it was that morning.

" _Ah,_ no," She smiled up at me, "I just thought..."

"You just thought?" I was trying not to laugh at her confused expression. I had told her two weeks ago that this last date would be spectacular, and I meant it. However I had meant it in a completely different way.

"I just thought..." she trailed off again, and then looked thoughtfully at me, "Actually, I really shouldn't think anything with you. You constantly surprise me, so I shouldn't have expected this to be any different."

"Well, fortunately for you, this  _isn't_ where our date is happening." I tilted my head to the side and indicated that she should follow me. I headed up the stairs and she chuckled.

"I've been up the stairs," She said, "And I'm sure you already told me we weren't spending the evening in bed."

"Mind out of the gutter, Granger," I looked back over my shoulder at her, "There's a whole other floor that you haven't seen yet."

We reached the second floor and I didn't miss the way her eyes darted sideways as we passed my bedroom. I had deliberately left the door open so she would see the fire burning in the hearth, the strategically placed pillows on the floor beside it. She reached for my arm and I smiled at her, knowing full well what my simple staging had done.

Another set of stairs led to the roof of my flat, and I nervously ascended them, hoping that she would love what was beyond the door. I paused on the landing at the top.

I turned to her, "Are you ready?"

"You have me intrigued, Mr Malfoy," she looked between me and the door, "Should I be concerned as to exactly what is behind this door?"

"No," I shrugged, "I think it should be me who is concerned that you'll think it stupid."

She smiled and touched my cheek lightly, "Nothing you've done so far has been even close to stupid, and I'm sure this isn't either."

I kissed her palm, and smiling at her, opened the door, holding it open and allowing her to step through. Her gasp was all I needed to know that I had made the right choice.

"Draco," she whispered, her eyes wide her jaw slack. She stepped forward, her shoes crunching on the stone path. "This is... _oh,_  this is not even close to stupid."

I felt my face heat up and a pleasant warmth spread through my chest. I smiled as I watched her take it all in. Four years it had taken to establish this garden, and her face was enough to make it all worth it.

The path she was now walking along led to a central arbour that was open on two sides and the other two sides were covered in a mixture of climbing ivy, jasmine and peppermint. The path was bordered with sage, ginger, and belladonna, and the wide garden that circled around the arbour held wolfsbane, asphodel, hellebore, squill, moondew, bergamot, and much more.

A path stretched from either side the arbour and led towards two more circular gardens, both home to apple trees with white and blue Moly lining the edge of the raised garden beds. Either end of the roof was enclosed with flowering dittany, which climbed along the trellis creating a protective wall, and was interspersed with white and yellow daisies.

Everything was precise, and symmetrical, and laid out in an orderly fashion, and I hoped that my need for such precision didn't make her think I was some crazy person.

I watched carefully as she stood in the arbour and stared around her. A wooden table had been set and tiny candles were flickering in the light breeze. Glass orbs floated above her filling the space with a warm glow, and fireflies happily flitted about.

She turned to look at me, her face stunned.

"Draco, this is...how..?"

"How did I do this?" I asked and she nodded. I stepped under the canopy and took her hands in mine, lifting them to my lips, "Neville helped."

Her eyes grew wider and she shook her head, "Neville? But he didn't say anything."

"No, I asked him not to. It's taken us four years to do this, some magic may have been involved, but it's been quite a lot of work. And I am indebted to him for his brilliance." I kissed her fingers, "And besides Neville and myself, you are the only other person who knows this is here."

She looked around again and I couldn't help but notice her mentally cataloguing the plants growing around us. "Are you thinking of supplying your own ingredients?"

I laughed, "No. I have a supplier that I'm more than happy with, this is just for me."

"Well, it's amazing, Draco," she pressed up on her toes and kissed me, "Thank you for trusting me enough to show it to me."

"Not lame then?"

She shook her head, "Far from it."

She walked back along the path and slowly circled the garden, murmuring to herself the names of all the plants she recognised - which to no surprise, was all of them. She stopped at the rear of the arbour, studying the tiny white stars of the jasmine flowers, closing her eyes and breathing in the light fragrance, a smile flickering across her lips.

She continued on, following the path towards the rear of the garden, stopping briefly to smile up at the apple tree, and then moving to the rear wall of dittany and daisies. She touched one of the yellow petals, and the paused, a tiny frown creasing her forehead.

She turned to look at me, "The daisies you left on my doorstep, they were from here?"

I nodded, "Yes. I know you weren't aware of it, but I wanted to give you something from me."

She turned back to the flowers, holding one bloom gently in her fingers. I watched as her chest rose and fell, watched as her throat bobbed, as her breath caught and a single tear slid down her cheek.

"Hey," I said and gently touched her shoulder, "What's going on?"

She stood silently for several moments, staring at the bright yellow daisy, and then turned and wrapped her arms around my neck. I slid my own arms around her, holding her to me, completely confused as to what was happening.

_Had I made a mistake? Had I shown her too much of me too soon?_

"You gave me daisies from your garden." she whispered.

"I did," I said, holding her tighter.

"You're supposed to be thoughtless and selfish and unkind, but you're not."

"You may have mentioned this already." I said and she chuckled against my shoulder. "Are you alright though?"

She nodded and looked up at me, "Is this what I should expect all the time?"

"How's that?"

"Grand gestures and thoughtful gifts," she looked around, "Because I don't think I can compete with this."

" _This_ is a grand gesture?"

"Draco, yes. This is better than the library or the art gallery," she smiled, "This is so much more. This is you."

"So dinner at a villa in the Greek Isles isn't necessary?" I said, teasing, trying to lighten her mood, but her face remained serious.

"No. This is perfect. I don't need anything more than this." She rested her hand on my cheek and then shook her head, "Actually no, I do need more than this. I need you."

As if in slow motion, she leaned in, sliding her lips across mine and kissing me with a heat I wasn't expecting. Her hands curled into my t-shirt as her tongue danced over mine, and I was lost.

"I had other plans," I murmured against her lips.

"Change them," She said before tugging at my bottom lip with her teeth. She flicked her hand in the direction of the arbour and I watched as the wooden table transfigured into a large day bed.

I stared down at her; I couldn't ever remember wanting – needing – another person so intently. I wanted to crawl over her, cover her with my body, and bury myself inside the heat I had been so craving. I threaded my fingers through her hair, drawing her back to me, kissing her softly, deeply, and my plans did indeed change.

"Make love to me, Draco." She whispered, her eyes pleading with mine.

And with those words, something fierce and possessive curled in my chest, and my hands dropped from her hair to her arse, pulling her against me and crashing my mouth back to hers. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my blood simmered in my veins, and my need for her almost overtook my want to go slow.

She leaned further into me, as if trying to climb me and a tight moan broke free from her throat. I didn't think it possible that a kiss could make me feel completely consumed; the way our tongues flicked over each other, the way she nipped at my lips, the way her fingernails scratched at my scalp as they slid through my hair. It was almost too much.

I walked her backwards until her legs hit the side of the bed, and I gripped her hips, stopping her from falling back.

"Not so fast," I said with a willpower I didn't know I possessed,and inched my fingers beneath her light pull-over, "I'm going to take my time, because I suspect," I leaned in and kissed along her jaw, "that you have something blue on underneath this."

She smiled and slid her own hands under my t-shirt, travelling them up to my chest, "Your suspicions will only be confirmed if you undress me."

"This isn't going to be a quick or rough fuck against a door," I told her, "I don't want to rush." I slowly slid her top up her ribs exposing the flat plane of her stomach. "I want to show you how I feel about you."

I pulled her top higher and she raised her arms, allowing me to completely remove it from her and my breath caught as my suspicions were confirmed. The blue lace that I had spent hours imagining was now on full display. What I hadn't imagined, however, was the lace pushing her tits up and together, giving me a view that had me almost dropping to my knees in worship.

I cupped her face, kissing her mouth and then moved my hands from her jaw to her throat, and then lower, dragging my fingers along the edge of the lace, "Much better than the pictures."

"I would hope so," she murmured and pulled my shirt up and over my head and tossed it to the ground.

I unclasped her bra, pulling the straps slowly down her arms, swallowing hard as the lace fell away and her chest was finally revealed. Her breasts were full and plump, her nipples were hardened into tight pink peaks, begging to be touched. But I held back, simply wanting to sear this moment into my brain.

"Better than the pictures?" she asked quietly, dragging her fingers lightly over the curve of one breast.

I nodded. I'd been given a fleeting glimpse of her chest, first in my office where I was too consumed with simply fucking her to truly appreciate the view, and again I'd taken too little notice of them covered in black lace when she'd sucked my cock into her mouth. But now, she stood half naked before me, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath she took and I could do little more than stare open-mouthed at her.

"Draco?"

"So much better than the pictures," I assured her, pulling my eyes away from her chest and back up to her face. "You're perfect, Granger."

She smiled, her eyes lighting up the world around me, and lifted my hand to cover her breast. I could feel her heart beating rapidly beneath my palm, and I swore under my breath; she was as consumed by this as I was.

I cupped both her breasts in my hands, plumping and squeezing, running my thumbs back and forth over the tiny peaks, wanting so much to lower my head and suck one of those perfect pink buds into my mouth.

I kissed the tip of her nose, making her giggle, and then landed my lips back on her mouth, sliding my tongue across her lips, tasting, sucking, and biting, every millimetre of her mouth. But I wanted more. I wanted to mar her flawless skin, wanted my teeth marks to cover her chest, wanted to lick her from neck to navel, and then feast on her thighs, and finally have that one taste I desired more than anything.

Reaching up and curling her hair around my hand, I gently tugged her head back, trailing my tongue down her neck and across her collarbone to the tiny hollow at the base of her throat. She gasped, her head lolling to the side as I lifted her breast and sucked one hard bud into my mouth. Her whimpers and gasps increased, her entire body shuddering as I pulled her nipple deeper into my mouth and bit down.

I licked and nipped at her skin, kissing my way back up the other side of her throat, "I'm going to make love to you," I murmured as I kissed her jaw, "And then I'm going to fuck you. And before you fall boneless into my bed, I'll make love to you again."

"Please," she whispered and I gently guided her back to the bed, following her down. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, our bare chests pressed together, her teeth grazing my jaw. I rose up slightly, leaning on my elbows, looking down at her flushed skin, her dark eyes filled with desire.

"Draco, please," she whispered again and lifted her hips, grinding her denim-covered pussy against the hard bulge in my own jeans.

"Please what?" I asked. My cock was straining against the confines of my jeans, begging to be released, begging to be inside her, and the thought of having her wet pussy clamped tightly around me made my balls burn.

She reached between us, her fingers fumbling with the button on my jeans. I sat back on my heels, and slapped her hands away. "Not yet," I told her reaching for the button of her jeans and stripping them down her legs, kissing every inch of skin that I slowly exposed. Her stomach, her hips, her thighs, the insides of her knees, then moved back up to kiss the three freckles I had stared at every night as I fell asleep.

I crawled back over her, burying my hands in her wild curls, lifting her head towards me, and taking her mouth fiercely. We'd already fucked, I'd had my fingers inside her, and she'd already had her lips on my cock. But I couldn't get enough of her mouth. The soft press of her lips, the tiny nips and bites of her teeth, the breathy moans, I could listen to them all night.

"You're perfect, Granger," I said as I kissed her neck, "So very beautiful." I moved back to her nipple, tonguing the tiny bud. She shivered and another tiny whimper escaped her.

I kissed my way back down her body, the satin between her thighs was already wet, and I traced my tongue along the edge of the blue oval covering her sex, breathing in her scent. With slow, deliberate pressure, I licked and bit at her through the satin, feeling the hard bud that was her clit pulsing against my tongue.

"Draco," She gasped and lifted her hips, pushing herself against me, wanting more.

I hooked my fingers into the lace of her knickers, pulling them down her legs and I smiled. She was naked, finally, and my first look at her naked form took my breath away. She was a decadent expanse of smooth, creamy skin, more gorgeous than I imagined. Impossibly so.

I studied her in the dim light from the orbs floating above; her neck and chest, her perfect round breasts, her waist, the curve of her hips. She was perfection, she was sex come to life.

I ran my hands over her stomach, sliding my thumb over the freckles that I was so enamoured with, leaning down to press a gentle kiss over them, and smiled against her soft skin when her fingers slid gently through my hair.

I moved my hands higher, covering her breasts again, feeling her nipples grow even stiffer against my palms. And I took no small amount of pleasure in listening to her breathy moans as I sucked her breast into my mouth.

I looked up at her and she was smiling down at me, her eyes soft and glassy; a look that was both sweet as sugar and sexy as sin. I inched up further so my mouth hovered over hers, the tips of our noses brushing, our breath mingling.

"What do you want first?" I whispered.

"I don't know...I just..." She stuttered, "Just let me feel you."

"Feel me here?" I kissed her throat then dropped my lips to her shoulder. "Or here?"

"Lower," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed.

I smiled as I kissed the valley between her breasts, "Low enough?"

"No." Her voice was breathy, distant, as if she'd put all her other senses on hold, and just wanted to feel.

I kissed both her nipples and moved back over her, whispering against her lips, "I'm going to spread you open and taste you with my tongue."

She made a tiny mewling sound, watching me closely as I kissed my way down her chest, her ribs, as I dipped my tongue into her belly button. Her skin was smooth and warm, her muscles twitching with each press of my lips. As I got closer to the space between her thighs, she reached for me, her hand caressing my cheek.

"Okay?" I murmured against the inside of her thigh

"Yeah," she breathed, gently tugging my head back to her core.

She was smooth and bare, and I pushed her legs further apart, watching as the folds of her sex opened, glistening with desire. I dragged my finger up her slit, feeling the wetness there, and I inhaled a deep breath. I didn't just want to taste her, I wanted to devour her.

Her hips bucked as I settled between her thighs, my tongue landing on her clit, circling the hard bud. She twisted beneath me, crying out. She was slick and sweet and she tasted like honey, and she cried out again when I moved lower and plunged my tongue inside her.

Her hands gripped my hair, twisting and pulling, grinding against my face as I feasted on her. I looked up at her and found her staring back at me, breathing hard, her pupils blown.

I ran my tongue up her slit again, kissing her clit before taking the tight bundle between my teeth and biting down. She dropped to the bed, arching her back, moaning, and pulling my hair even tighter. I flicked my tongue against her clit, over and over, until she was bucking and twisting, trying to pull away. But I gripped her hips, keeping her still, plunging my tongue back inside her, pumping in and out, licking and twisting and sucking.

"Oh fuck! Draco, more... _please!"_

A loud wail burst from her chest when I slid two fingers into her, working her, pulsing them in and out, moving faster and faster as my tongue continued to circle her clit. Her body tightened, her breath was ragged, and her legs clamped hard against my head as she came. I didn't stop, continuing to move my fingers, adding another and curling them inside her. Her hands flailed wildly at the mattress, and I reached for one, linking my fingers through hers, anchoring her to me.

I smiled against her, licking gently up and down her pussy, before covering her clit with my tongue, circling slowly over and over and over. She rocked into me, and with a shaky cry, she squeezed my fingers, and my name floated into the air around us.

I slowed my movements, licking her softly, before easing her thighs away from my head and looking up at her. She was gasping, tears filling her eyes.

I was over her in a second, pushing her hair back from her face and cradling her head, "Did I hurt you?"

Her head shook and she blinked the tears away. "No," she gasped. "Draco, no."

"Are you sure?" I hated to think I had somehow hurt her, that I was the cause of her tears.

Her hands came up to my face, her gaze falling to my lips, "Not hurt, not in the slightest."

With a relieved smile, I leaned down, kissing her, "I never want to hurt you. Never. You know that, yeah?"

"I know." She pulled me back to her, licking my lips, and sucking on my tongue, tasting the evidence of her own arousal.

"Do you like how you taste?" I asked against her lips. She hummed in response and I felt her feet go to my jeans, fumbling to shove them down my legs.

"I want you, Draco," she panted, shoving her hand between us and gripping me through the denim. "I want you now."

I rolled off the bed and made quick work of my jeans, raising an eyebrow when she told me to  _stop_ and scooted to the side of the bed. Her fingers brushed over the front of my boxer briefs, and she looked up at me in question.

"You wanted me to wear them."

"I didn't think you would." She hooked her fingers into the waistband, "You don't have to, not if you're uncomfortable."

I gripped my cock through the material, "This belongs to you now, you get to make the rules."

She laughed, pulling them down, her tongue licking at her lips as my cock burst free. She leaned in, kissing the tip before moving back to lay on the bed, pulling me with her, reaching between us, giving me a rough squeeze. "Are you ready?"

"Are you kidding?" I looked up at her, a sexy grin spread across her face. I narrowed my eyes at her, "Maybe I'm not ready."

"Oh, I think you are." She squeezed me again, guiding me through her soft, warm folds and over the rise of her clit. I watched as she rubbed me over her slick skin, circling, pressing, and teasing until I could barely think straight.

"Granger," I groaned, "Stop teasing and put me inside you."

Her sexy grin returned as she slid me to her opening, pressing me against her and then pulling me away, repeatedly teasing me until I slapped her hand away. I flexed my hips, pressing against her, wanting to get inside her, and stay there. Her eyes never left mine as I shifted forward, sliding into the tight heat of her body.

A tiny wince flashed across her face, and she pulled her legs higher along my sides, rolling her hips so I slid in deeper. We both groaned as our hips met, my cock seated fully inside her. I leaned my chest to hers, circling her head with my arms and kissing her deeply.

The sensation of her thighs pressing against me, of our chests pressed together, of her pussy tight and hot around me suddenly overwhelmed me, and I buried my face in her neck. My body was tight, tense, and a lump formed in my throat. My breath caught and despite my trying to swallow it, a choked sound escaped me. I had been prepared for her to be overwhelmed, for her to let me take control, for her to fall apart. What I had not been prepared for was my reaction.

As if sensing my state, her hands came around me, rubbing gently down and up my back, her fingers tracing over my spine. I felt her lips on my shoulder, heard the soothing whisper of my name, and lifted my head to look at her. She was smiling at me with a tenderness that I hadn't expected.

"Alright?" she whispered.

"No," I rasped, bending to kiss her. "You're a dream."

"I'm real," She said and as if to prove it she gave my cock a tiny internal hug. "I'm real, Draco, and so is this."

I nodded and leaned my forehead on hers. I closed my eyes, and slowly began to move, groaning quietly as she rolled her hips in time with my movements. Her breath was warm against my lips as her mouth hovered close to mine, her fingers still traced along my spine. This wasn't my office, nor was it the library. This was naked and raw. This was intimate. This was the woman I had fallen in love with. And nothing else mattered but that. Nothing in this moment, nothing but the woman beneath me, nothing but the sensations she was causing. Nothing else mattered.

I leaned up on my elbows, and her smile was sweet when she looked up at me.

"You feel good," She whispered, "So fucking good."

"So do you." I murmured, "You feel..."  _Fuck!_ I couldn't find the right words.

"I know," She pressed her palm to my cheek, "You don't have to tell me, I can see it in your eyes."

I swallowed hard. Buried inside her like I was, it was hard to form coherent words. But clearly my face was giving everything away. She was seeing what so few others saw; she was seeing my heart, seeing everything I was feeling, seeing what I couldn't say in words.

Her hands moved to my arse and she rocked against me, telling me without words that she wanted – needed – more. I began thrusting in long, hard strokes, and she gasped, a sound that was both surprised and relieved. I picked up the pace, moving faster, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth, relishing the way her hands gripped my arse. I felt her tremble and slowed, and smiled at her frustrated growl.

" _Draco,"_ she whined and I covered her mouth with mine, swallowing the sound.

I wanted to build the need in her, wanted her to know just how much I wanted her, wanted her to know that I would do anything for her. But I also want to make love to her, not to simply fuck her.

I sped up again, then slowed, teasing her, pulling her deeper into the abyss with me, until she was shaking, and begging me not to stop. Her hands became restless, clutching at my ribs, my shoulders and then sliding into my hair. I kissed her hard, and gave her what she wanted.

I pulled her legs around my waist, pivoting into her, hard and fast, driving through her pulsating heat, I closed my eyes, pressing my face into her neck, and giving in to the pure sensation of her beneath me. Her wet pussy; her warm skin sliding against mine; her tight nipples brushing my chest with every thrust. And as hard I was pumping into her, as frenzied as it had become, this wasn't fucking, this was more, this was lust and desire. This was us, making love.

I exhaled a loud grunt when her pussy began to flutter around me. She gasped, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, holding me tightly against. Her pleas became urgent as our bodies moved together, and a deep, insatiable need washed over me. I needed her closer, I needed to be deeper, I needed to feel her release all over me.

"You're right there, Granger. You're right fucking there."

Her body tensed, and her eyes squeezed shut, her body shaking under me. She was right on the edge, and I shoved my hand between our bodies and pressed hard on her clit.

"Come, Granger," I growled in her ear, "Fucking come all over me."

And she did, exploding all around me, her pussy tightening in a rhythmic pulse as she cried out my name. Pleasure flooded my veins and my balls tightened, drawing up into my body, and I followed her over the edge, bucking wildly, filling her with what seemed to be an endless stream of my essence.

She kissed my neck, my shoulder, her hands sliding through my sweat-soaked hair, and her breath was hot when she whispered words of how good it was, how good I felt, how she wanted me to stay inside her.

I lifted my head, it was heavy and I felt drowsy, completely spent, completely exhausted. Completely in love with her. She was beautiful beneath me, her face flushed, her hair a wild mess across the pillows.

"I hope no one can see in here." She giggled.

My eyes went wide, remembering where we were. We had just made love in my garden. The private space that was only mine, and was now hers.

I circled my arms around her head, threading my fingers through her hair, and leaned my forehead on hers. "No one can see in here, but I don't care if they could. If anyone saw that, they would know exactly how I feel about you."

Her hand went to my face, her thumb caressing my cheek, "I feel the same, but I'm not—"

I cut her off with a kiss. I wanted to say those three words, they had been threatening to burst from me the minute I opened the door. But I had tamped them down, knowing even without her saying, that she wasn't ready to voice them herself.

"You don't have to tell me," I kissed her again, softly, once, twice, the third time lingering for just a few seconds. "Only when you're ready. But just know that I want only you."

Nodding, she touched her fingertip to my lip, a sly smile creeping across her face.

I narrowed my eyes at her, "What?"

"Well, after that, I was just wondering," She ran her finger down my chest, "What were your original plans?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for taking forever to get this one written...my normal, everyday life gets in the way sometimes and the creative side of life gets put on hold.
> 
> As always, thank you for your comments, thank you for reading, thank you for loving (or hating, as the case sometimes is) xxx


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

 

****** HERMIONE ******

* * *

 

"You were going to cook for me?" I tried to keep the shock out of my voice, but failed. Draco Malfoy cooking wasn't something I ever considered. I assumed he would have had a house elf to do everything for him. So the fact that he did something so incredibly domestic astounded me.

"Yes, Granger, I was going to cook for you." He grinned at my shock, "I had this whole seduction plan; cook you dinner, get you drunk on expensive wine, and then I was going eat your pussy for desert in my bed."

"Wow, colour me seduced," I said rolling my eyes and ignoring his attempt to embarrass me. We were still tangled together naked on the day bed in the garden, so embarrassed wasn't something that either of us should have been. "What were you planning on cooking?

"Oh, oysters; salmon with asparagus and chilli; and pomegranate and figs with chocolate."

I groaned and shook my head, "You do know that all of those foods being considered aphrodisiacs is complete bullshit, don't you?"

He laughed, "Of course, but how good does that menu sound?"

"Well, I already gave it up, so you could probably feed me cereal and juice and I'd be happy."

"I can do better than cereal and juice." He laughed again. "But before you turned my table into this bed - mind you, not that I care - my plan was pretty spectacular."

I looked over his shoulder at the garden beyond, "More spectacular than this?"

"So much more."

I ran my hand down his chest, across his ribs, coming to rest on the curve of his hip. "Lay it out for me then."

"Well, Granger, we were going to have wine and canapés up here in the garden, and after that I was going to take you down to my library and have our main course, and I will admit that I lived in the hope that you would let me put my fingers inside you again while you read to me." He grinned quickly at me before continuing "And after you came down from your high, we were going to have desert while I showed you my art collection. And then," he rolled awkwardly to the side of the bed, reaching down and picking up his wand. He aimed it above us and music flooded the garden. My eyes went wide; Corey Taylor's voice surrounded us. "I had planned to have you beside the fire in my bedroom while this played."

I was speechless. I didn't know how to respond. He had planned to replicate all of our dates - well almost all of them; I saw no brooms - in one night.

"I wanted to keep things simple, to show you that even though every date we've been on has been big and grand, none of it matters," He rubbed his hand along my thigh, smiling at me. "This is all that matters, you and me."

I opened my mouth but no words came out. He had not only carefully planned each of our dates, but he had planned them out to precisely match with everything that was possible in his own home.

"You okay, Granger?"

"I think I should get dressed and start the night over. I feel like I've missed out."

His hand moved from my thigh to cup my breast, "I don't think you missed out on anything. And I don't think clothes are necessary. We can be naked and still do all of what I had planned."

I raked my eyes down his body and back up again, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

He circled his thumb around my nipple, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Why ever not?"

I slipped my hand from his hip and brushed my finger through the soft hair at the base of his cock, "Because I don't think I could concentrate on eating with this on display."

Laughing, he leaned in and kissed me. "We do need to eat though. I'm starving."

I nodded, "Cereal and juice it is then."

He poked me in the ribs, "And I told you, I can do much better than that."

Leaning over the side of the bed he reached for his t-shirt, handing it to me. He sat up, reaching down again and pulled his boxers on, and my stomach stirred at the sight of his arse in the stretchy cotton. His naked arse was something to behold, but covered as it was, it was even more phenomenal.

Sitting up, I pulled the t-shirt over my head, inhaling the scent of him as the soft material brushed over my face. It was something that I never knew could be so powerful. The food may not have been an aphrodisiac, but the scent of him certainly was.

I stood, looking around at our discarded clothes, searching for my knickers. Seeing a glimpse of blue under his jeans, I snagged them and pulled them on, looking up to see the disappointment on his face.

"There is no way I'm walking around your flat pants-less." I deadpanned.

Hooking one finger under the hem of the t-shirt he pulled it up slightly, "But you're so pretty without them."

I snorted a laugh, "Nice try. The pants stay on."

"For now," he said, leaning in to kiss me. "Now, I think I promised to feed you."

I kissed him back and let him lead me down the stairs, watching his arse with every step he took, and I had to lower my head to cover my smile.

Draco Malfoy. Near naked and planning on cooking for me.

Draco Malfoy. Near naked after making me come twice.

Draco Malfoy. Near naked after all but telling me he loved me.

_Holy shit!_

The dawning realisation had me sucking in a breath and freezing mid-step. My heart twisted in my chest, and I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of his unspoken words crushing me.

"Granger?" His hand gripped my shoulder and his voice sounded panicked. "Granger, what's wrong?"

Shaking my head, I opened my eyes and smiled, "Nothing, just a little dizzy."

His face relaxed at my lie, and he smirked, "Well, you did expend a huge amount of energy just now."

I gave him what I hoped was an incredulous glare, "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course," he smiled and ran his hand along my arm, "You're alright though?"

"I am. I just need a minute."

His hand moved from my arm to the side of my face, and he leaned in and kissed me so sweetly my heart twisted again. "Meet me downstairs when you're ready."

I nodded, scared if I spoke my voice would break. I stepped into his bedroom, resolutely not looking at the bed, nor the fireplace, and quietly closed the bathroom door behind me. I flipped the toilet seat down and sat heavily, leaning my head in my hands.

I hated having to hide from him, but I needed some space. I needed a minute to get straight in my head what the hell had just happened. And on top of that, I needed to figure out exactly what it was that I was feeling.

I wasn't shocked at his near confession; I had known without a doubt for weeks just how he felt. No, this was the sudden and immense realisation crashing down on me that this was all real. This was us. That we were now  _us._

And it wasn't that I didn't want this, because I did, but why was it that we were us? I hadn't brought it up with him and maybe I should have; the years he spent bullying me, calling me mudblood, telling everyone who would listen that I was beneath him.

I laughed a tiny, ironic sound.  _Beneath him._ I'd just spent the last hour beneath him. And holy shit! It had possibly been the best moment of my life. Not because of how tender and caring he had been, not because he had taken his time, not because he had made love to me. But because of the way he had given me everything, the raw emotion, the openness in his face, the choked sound he made when he first pushed inside me. And it was that sound, the breathless sob that told me just how much he felt. It told me that everything prior to that moment had been irrelevant. Our dates had been nothing more than a distraction to get us to that one moment.

And in that one moment, the once dark, broody, imperfect man just outside the door, who at one time hated me, had shed every last guard he had left up and given himself completely to me.

And I had done the same.

I had fallen for him, and had done so long before these five dates. And while I had known from the start exactly where we were headed, the thought of now being with him in public, of being with him around our friends; of spending nights together in his bed, or mine, of being us, was suddenly too much to deal with all at once.

"Granger?" A loud knock on the door made me almost jump out of my skin, and the concern in his voice made my stomach twist. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," I called, but knew he wouldn't miss the waver in my voice.

He was silent for a few seconds, "Can I come in?"

I let out the breath I was holding and tried to stand, but my legs felt like jelly, and I was certain they wouldn't hold me up. I couldn't get out of this. I had to tell him, Daphne was right; I had to talk to him about this before anything really started.

"Come in," I finally called, and braced myself for his reaction to seeing me sitting here.

The door opened slowly and a tiny flicker of surprise crossed his face, gone as quick as it came.

"You've been up here a while," he said quietly, as if trying not to startle me.

I frowned, "Really?"

Nodding, he knelt in front of me, his hands curling around my calves, "About twenty minutes. What's going on? Having second thoughts?"

"Draco, no, please don't think that. I want this, I do," I shook my head quickly.  _Twenty minutes._  It felt like two. "I just..." I rubbed my forehead and he watched me patiently.

The words I wanted to say were too harsh, to cruel, especially after what we had just done. Especially after how amazing he had been. I didn't want to ruin it.

"Tell me," he said, sensing my hesitation. "Whatever you're thinking, just tell me. No filter."

I stared at his face, a small smile sat on his lips, and his eyes held a look that said he had an idea of what was coming.

"You hated me." I said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

"I did," he said and squeezed my calves.

"You said my blood was filthy."

He nodded, "I did."

"You were a bully, and a bigot, and thought me less than you. You said some truly hurtful things." I scratched at my scar. I barely gave it a thought anymore, it had been a part of me for so long it didn't bother me. But right now, the word was almost a glowing beacon between us. "And not just to me. To Harry and Ron and Neville."

Moving his hand from my leg, he gently stopped my hand. He lifted my arm and kissed the reddened skin my scratching had caused. "It's all true. All of it, and I can't take back any of it. I  _was_ all of those things and I said all of those things. I was disgusting and I was cruel. And there are no excuses for how I treated you. You certainly didn't deserve it." He kissed my arm again and smiled at me, "All I can do is ask that you forgive me, because no matter how long I live, I will never forgive myself."

"I forgave you a long time ago." A tear slipped from my eye and slid down my cheek, and my fingers moved back to my scar, "I know we've talked about some things, but we've never talked about this."

"So tell me," he said, rubbing his thumb over the scar on my forearm. "Tell me everything you felt that night. Tell me everything you felt before that night. And everything after."

I closed my eyes. I never thought I would be sitting in his bathroom after having the most amazing sex of my life, having  _this_  discussion.

"I've never been so scared in my life. Not before, not after. When she did this to me...I thought I was going to die that night, Draco. Was sure of it. And I have never in my life felt so much hatred for another person. I will forever be grateful that Molly rid this world of her." I looked up at him and he was simply listening without any judgement. I touched his cheek, "I didn't hate you. Only her. You pretended not to know us, and that almost certainly gave us enough time to be rescued. You played a part in saving us, Draco. And your mother certainly saved Harry. Forgiveness was easy after that."

"She saved Harry to save me," he said moving his hands to my thighs and rubbing gently, "She wasn't being as selfless as you think."

"She still did it though," I managed a small smile, "And so did you."

"It wasn't enough though. It will never be enough." Cupping my face, he stared right into my eyes, "I have so much to make up for when it comes to you. These last few weeks are just the start."

"What changed for you?"

"You changed me," he brushed his thumbs across my cheeks, "You took on a dark lord and a swarm of death eaters," his eyes flicked down to my arm, "You survived a hell that I can't even imagine, and you defended my friends and I when you could have simply told the world we were complete arseholes and let us all rot in jail."

"Draco, no. I would never have done that."

"I know you wouldn't, and that was when I changed" he said and kissed me, "Of all the people around me, you were the only one who ever showed me compassion, and kindness, despite how I treated you."

"And now..." I paused, not sure I should say the words.

"No filter, Granger." He reminded me with a smile.

I took a breath and dropped my eyes to my lap, "And now you're in love with me?"

"Look at me." He said but I couldn't. Despite the meaning behind his unspoken words, what if I was wrong?

His hands squeezed my thighs and he ducked his head, forcing me to look up at him. I lifted my eyes to his and they held the same look they did when he was making love to me in the garden.

"I am completely in love with you." He said, "And I have been for longer than you think. And I meant what I said; you don't have to say it back, not if you're not ready."

"Okay," I said with a nod.

"Okay," he echoed and then squeezed my thighs again. "What else?"

I huffed out a laugh. He knew me far too well. "You're not annoyed that I've been hiding up here?"

"No," he said with a laugh and stood in front of me, "What I'm annoyed about is that you haven't talked to me about this before. I want you to say anything to me, no matter how crazy or stupid or hurtful you think it might be. Anything, okay?"

"Anything," I agreed and let him pull me up to stand. "You're a little too perfect, do you know that?"

"Far from it, Granger," he brushed his lips over mine, "But I'll try my best."

* * *

 

He hadn't fucked me, like he'd promised. He had been slow and quiet and deliberate all over again, turning me into a loose-limbed puddle in his bed.

After my bathroom breakdown, he had made me laugh when he did indeed serve me up cereal and juice, with a promise that next time he would put me into a food coma. He had then taken my hand and walked me through his flat.

First the library, where his hand found its way beneath the hem of my t-shirt, And when he pressed me back against the bookshelves, his lips finding my neck and his fingers sliding inside me, the weight of our bathroom conversation left and I melted into him.

His art collection surprised me. I figured with his fortune there would be priceless works, but the small gallery he had set up was mostly drawings and pencil sketches, water colours and oils from unknown artists. He had explained that while it would be amazing to have a Van Gogh or Monet hanging in his home, he preferred to buy works that he was drawn to when visiting smaller galleries.

Then we were in his bed, where he pressed his lips to every inch of my skin, and then brought me over so many times I lost count.

And now I lay sprawled on my stomach across his bed, the moonlight seeping in through the windows and casting a silvery tinge across the room. A heaviness in my muscles the likes of which I had never felt before weighed me down as I listened to the steady pounding of the shower and cursing the fact that I didn't have the energy to get up and join him.

I allowed myself to smile. My own insecurities had gotten the better of my once more and I had been worried for nothing. Yes, it was good to have our teenage years out of the way, but I had been stupid to panic, to yet again let my over-analytical brain get in the way, instead of going with how I felt, how I knew he felt.

His eyes spoke volumes. Eyes that watched me intently, eyes that told me he only wanted to kiss me, that he only wanted to touch me, that he only wanted me. And the thought no longer terrified me, instead it made me dizzy. And dizzy hadn't been a sensation that I had felt with any man, ever.

I thought sex with Miles had been good. I  _thought_ that we'd made love. I _thought_ he had taken his time, had been thoughtful and caring. But I was so incredibly wrong. Quick, impatient sex was now what I realised that we'd had. He'd never touched me like Draco had, with slow hands, exploring every inch of me. He never looked at me with eyes so hungry I thought I would be devoured.

I had never before felt the heavy ache, the want, the  _need_ I felt when Draco was hovering over me. He instinctively knew what I needed, when I needed him to move, when I needed him to slow down, when I needed him to dive deeper and cover me completely with his body.

I sighed, wriggling my toes and arching my back, and feeling the delicious ache stir between my thighs.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter from behind me and I lifted my head to look at him over my shoulder. His lower half was wrapped in a towel and his hair was sticking up every which way from being dried so nonchalantly. I noted the heated flare in his eyes, the tilt of his mouth as it curled into a devilish grin, the way his eyes roamed across my naked skin. And under that gaze I felt my skin flush and the ache between my thighs grew even heavier.

"Look at you," he said, crossing the room and running his hand over the curve of my hip. "Laying here like a goddess, just for me."

I hummed in response, loving the feel of his hand as it moved across my skin. He leaned down and kissed my shoulder, whispering, "I want you like this every night."

"I don't think I can move, so that won't be a problem." I told him, and reached out lazily to pull the towel from his waist. I let it drop to the floor, and then watched as he walked to the end of the bed, felt the mattress dip as he settled between my legs.

He kissed the back of my thigh, then the other, his hands moving to grip my arse, squeezing hard. I groaned and lifted my hips against his hands, wanting more. Wanting what he had promised.

I felt the press of his lips on my lower back, and in a torturous move, he kissed his way slowly along my spine, kissing each vertebrae while his hands snaked their way up my sides. Leaning into me - his chest pressing against my back, cock pressing even harder against my arse - he flicked his tongue over my ear. "It's about to get rough, Granger, and I want you loud and screaming."

My heart hammered in my chest - it was what he had promised me at the club; loud, screaming and rough. And when the music that he'd also promised began playing, I was lost.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked against the shell of my ear, "Is this your fantasy? Me fucking you while you hear his voice?"

I had fantasised about this, fantasised about him just taking me, but the voice I heard hadn't been that of the one currently filling the room. It had been the one of the man currently pressed against me, teasing me, whispering roughly into my ear.

"Draco," I murmured, closing my eyes. I could feel how wet I was, could feel an urgency creep into me as the weight of him lifted off me and his fingers dug into my hips. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted it rough and hard. I wanted to be hoarse from screaming his name.

Lifting me, he pulled me to my knees and slipped his fingers between my parted thighs, cursing when he pressed his thumb to where I was aching for him.

"You're drenched, Granger," his fingers flicked my clit and I groaned. "What have you been thinking about laying here all by yourself? Have you been thinking about me?" He pressed the tip of his thumb just inside me, "Have you been thinking about me sucking on this pretty pussy of yours?"

I shoved my hips back, forcing his thumb deeper inside me. But it wasn't enough. I need his cock inside me, filling me, stretching me, fucking me.

"Draco,  _please,"_  I whined, "Please, I need more."

He pulled his thumb away and slapped my arse, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to my stinging skin. "Tell me what you need, Granger?" His voice was rough, his words vibrating on my skin.

Reaching back, I found him and ran my hand through his damp hair, "You," I breathed, "I need you."

"How do you need me?" He shifted, kissing his way back up my spine, biting down gently when he reached my shoulder. "Do you need me kissing you?" He brushed my hair aside and kissed the back of my neck. "Do you need me touching you?" He reached his hand around and squeezed my breast. "Tell me, Granger. What do you  _need?"_

"I...need..." I choked on my words. I had imagined this so many times, him curled over me, heavy and hard between my legs, taking me from behind so I couldn't see, so I could only feel. But now, the heat of his skin on mine, the brush of his lips along my back, the feel of his hands gentle and rough at the same time, was more than I could take.

"Do you need me to fuck you?" He pressed another kiss between my shoulder blades, and I gasped as he shifted behind me so the tip of his cock slid across my clit. He rocked there, every slide of him across my wet skin sending a shock wave through me. I pushed my hips back, wanting him inside me, needing him hot and heavy and pulsing inside me.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Granger?" He asked again, "Is that what you want?"

"Y-yes," I stammered, gripping the sheets as he positioned himself to enter me. And then my breath caught, and an unintelligible sound burst from my throat when he finally inched inside.

"Do you know how amazing you look?" His own voice was tight, as if the feeling was as unexpected for him as it was for me. "Your hot little arse right here." His palm landed with a 'smack' on me again and I thought my heart might actually stop.

He was so thick, so fucking hard, and from this angle, so fucking deep. And,  _oh,_ I didn't know it could feel like this. The quick stabs of his hips bordering on pain, but a pain so delicious that it threatened to spiral me out of control before we'd even really started.

He dragged himself through me, slow and deep, touching that place that was bringing me closer and closer to the edge. This was nothing like the rough fucking he had promised, but nonetheless, I had to close my eyes against the intensity of it.

I felt his hand in my hair, twisting the strands around his fingers, holding me in place. His other hand dug roughly into my hip, spiking the pleasure-pain once more.

"Okay?" he asked, and I nodded, completely overwhelmed.

And then he started to move.  _Really_ move. Hard, ferocious thrusts that had the bed protesting beneath us. I felt the solid muscles in his legs hard against mine, felt the tap of his balls against my sensitive flesh, listened to the sound of our skin as it pressed together and parted repeatedly in a frantic rhythm. His breath was uneven, choppy, and my own pleasure increased with the sound of every tiny grunt that punctuated the air.

He'd made love to me, had taken his time, had made my pleasure a priority. But this time my pleasure was only on the periphery as he used my body to get what he needed. Taking, taking, until everything became a blur and all I could do was feel.

Heat settled in my stomach, and between my thighs, as he pushed into me again and again, pushing me closer and closer to the point where my body felt like it would shatter.

"Fucking look at you, Granger," he said in a voice so tight, so hoarse, that his words came out as a mumbled growl. "Letting me fuck you like this."

I groaned in response, unable to form words, and I imagined what we must have looked like; him behind me, holding me exactly where he wanted me. My arse in the air, my body shaking as he did exactly that; fucked me.

"Fucking incredible," he growled, loosening his grip on my hair and slipping both hands around my ribs, lifting me from the bed and pulling me flush against him. I groaned at the shift in position, groaned as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside me.

I felt him smile against my throat as my head dropped back to his shoulder, and I cried out when he pressed his teeth into my skin. I cried out again when his fingertips found my clit, sensitive and swollen, and my entire body shuddered when he pressed down hard.

Reaching back, I dug my hands into his hair and tugged hard, holding his mouth against me. Warmth spread down my spine, around my hips, to the place where his fingers were pressed and my entire body convulsed from the orgasm that pulsed through me. I screamed out his name, my voice cracking and leaving me gasping for air.

He held me against him, still driving into me, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. Sweat from his forehead dripped onto me, sliding over my chest and down between my breasts. This was good. He was good. 

"So good, baby," he murmured as if reading my thoughts, and I felt his body tremble.

I reached down, covering his hand with mine, noting the way his breath changed, the way his grunts grew louder. His fingers were still moving over my clit, but his perfect rhythm, perfect pressure, was gone as his body went rigid behind me. His hands moved up to my breasts, gripping me hard. His thrusts became erratic and his voice was gravelly in my ear.

"Coming."

I closed my eyes, letting the pleasant buzz of his single word wash over me. I felt him pulse inside me, felt the warmth spill from him, heard the harsh groan as his head fell heavy onto my shoulder.

Several moments of silence stretched between us, our panting breaths the only sounds in the moonlit room. His hand dropped from my breast and ran gently along my thigh.

"Okay?" He asked, his voice was deep and the word sounded forced, as if right in that moment it was impossible for him to say more.

"Yeah," I whispered, my throat was dry and my own voice cracked. My legs ached, my hips were stiff and sore, my sweaty skin was cooling rapidly, and I knew if he let go of me I would collapse.

But he didn't let me go. He held me tighter, pressing sweet kisses along my shoulder, my throat. I turned my head and he caught my mouth, kissing me long and slow. When he pulled back I saw that same look on his eyes, the one that said  _I love you. I love only you._

He smiled, lowering me gently to the bed and I shivered when he pulled out of me. I was exhausted. My eyes closed and my body ached, but in the most blissful way. I felt the heat of his body as he lay beside me, and murmured my thanks when he pulled the covers over us.

He kissed my forehead and wound his naked body around me, and I heard him whisper  _I love you_  as I slipped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Corey Taylor may have been playing in my own ears while I wrote this one..also a little bit of Halestorm and Dead By April.
> 
> Inspiration from my faves always helps :)


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

 

****** DRACO ******

* * *

 

Blissful. Completely fucking blissful. That was what my life had become. And she had only truly been with me for less than a week. And I fell just a little more in love with her every minute I was with her.

Monday, as promised, we had indeed spent the day in bed. We fucked, we made slow love, we talked, we slept. We touched and explored, we lay together quietly, just staring at each other. She rambled endlessly about plants and potions, and the rare ingredients that she longed to get her hands on. She talked about muggle things that I had no idea about – which I know amused her to no end – but it didn't matter. I would listen to her for hours if she wanted me to, I would even learn about the stupid muggle things she so loved if that would make her happy. I would do anything for her, I move the earth if she asked me to.

Yet it wasn't enough. It would never be enough when it came to her.

And that was the absolute truth of it. I knew that I could spend hours with her, and still want more. More touching, more talking, more staring at her for hours. I had never been sentimental - thought it a weak trait - but she stirred something in me that made me not want to leave her side. I had finally found the one person that I ached to be near, ached to touch. I wanted nothing more than to simply belong to her. I wanted nothing more than for her to belong to me.

And it was that thought alone that had me kicking up a fuss when she wanted to leave after dinner. She had laughed at me, telling me to stop being so childish and that I was more than welcome to sleep in her bed with her that night. She was going home because, she had said, she was  _not_ leaving for work in three day old clothes.

When I had pointed out that she really hadn't worn those clothes for most of the day, she had shot me a withering glare and I caved, following her home and I had indeed slept in her bed that night. I had  _slept_ so hard that I thought we would both have trouble walking.

But that hadn't changed my reluctance to leave her the next morning. In fact, it had made it worse. I had woken up beside her , but that had been different. We had nowhere to go, nothing to do but spend the day together. But Tuesday, our lives went back to normal, and I wasn't ready to leave her, even if it was just for a few hours.

We'd eaten breakfast together and then showered, where she had made me laugh yet again, telling me to  _slap that shit down_ when I got a little too enthusiastic. She needed a clear head for her day at work and she didn't need thoughts of me – especially naked thoughts - distracting her.

After she finally made me see sense and that while, yes the previous two days had been bliss, we still had lives to lead and work to do, I returned to my office. Her logic and sensibility didn't stop me from sending several owls during the day though, and her adorably irate responses were the only thing stopping me from rushing to her. And her promises of just what she'd do to me that night if I stopped sending owls kept me powering me through my workload.

The rest of our week followed a similar path; work, dinner, hours spent talking, sleeping – in both her bed and mine – and I had begun to wonder just how I had gone as long as I had without her. Her presence made me calm, calmer than I had ever been in my life.

However, that calm was about to be disrupted. It was time to announce to the world that we were now a 'we.' But as calming as the effect was that she had, my nerves had steadily increased over the course of the day. And it was why I was now standing at the bar in the pub, unable to sit with our friends. In fact, I was unable to even sit still.

"What's going on with you?" Weasley said as he stepped up beside me and leaned on the bar.

I looked at him and then returned my gaze back to my drink, muttering, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" He laughed and ordered drinks for the table, "You're standing here at the bar, all by yourself when you could be sitting with all your mates over there. You're being weirder than normal. Something's going on here."

I continued to stare at my drink, cursing myself for being ridiculous about this. Weasley was right, I should have been sitting with them; she would be here any minute and would look for me at the table, not here at the bar. And if Weasley was noticing my idiotic behaviour, the others certainly would have noticed it as well.

"Does this weirder than normal behaviour have something to do with a certain  _brightest witch of our age?"_

Swallowing the remainder of my drink, I finally looked at him, expecting to see a look of warning, a look telling me that I had better not fuck her around. But instead, I was greeted with genuine curiosity.

"Did Daphne tell you?"

"Daph?" He glanced over at the table across the bar where the others were sitting, and then shook his head. "She's told me nothing. But clearly there is something?"

Nodding, I was about to tell him that he had guessed correctly, but a hand on my arse, and voice that definitely was not Granger's, stopped me. I spun around and took a step back, wanting to be as far away as possible from the woman in front of me.

"Draco," She said, taking a step closer and touching my arm, "It's been far too long."

"Actually, no. It hasn't been long enough." I turned my back on her, giving Weasley a  _fuck me_  look. But my rudeness didn't even faze her.

"Don't play this game, Draco," She moved even closer and pressed into my side, her hand sliding over my arse again, her eyes blazing with lust. "You know you want this."

I batted her hand away and glared at her. "I told you I wasn't interested in you then, and I'm even less interested you now. I have a girlfriend, who is on her way to meet me here, so you need to leave."

She laughed, ignoring me completely, "Draco, I'll only leave if you leave with me."

Her hand slipped across my stomach and I grabbed it and flung it away from me before it dropped any lower, "I told you nicely to move away from me, but since you don't seem to be understanding me, I'll now tell in terms that your minuscule brain can understand; if you know what's good for you, you will fuck off, and you will fuck off  _now."_

She looked slightly startled, but my words didn't seem to deter her. "Oh, come on Draco, you're what's good for me," she purred, and before I knew what was happening, she grabbed my head and kissed me.

I shoved at her, not caring in the slightest that it caused her to stumble backwards, "I told you I have a girlfriend. What the fuck part of that do you not understand?"

"You're a liar," She laughed, "Draco Malfoy, with a girlfriend? Come on. Everyone knows that you'll never settle. What's wrong with you, baby? Come home with me. Show me what I missed out on last time."

"Draco?" Granger's voice was a startled whisper from behind me.

I whipped around and my heart dropped at the look of complete betrayal on her face.

Time stopped.

She was staring between me and this imbecilic woman, and I could see her exact thoughts. I opened my mouth to explain what was happening and no words came out, but my mind was screaming No, this isn't what it looks like. No. No. No.

"Hermione Granger?" The stupid bint whispered, "She's your..." Her face had gone deathly pale, and she stepped back holding her hands up in surrender, as if she thought Granger was about to hex her into a pile of dust on the floor.

"Oh, shit," I heard Weasley say, and then he lunged for Granger as she spun on her heel and headed for the door. "Hermione no, wait."

He looked back at me, and my feet that were apparently glued to the floor finally got the message to move. I followed him out the door, just in time for him to grab her and stop her from apparating.

"Hermione, no. It's not what you think." Weasley was shaking his head, and I was stunned that he was pleading my case. "He told her repeatedly to piss off, she wouldn't listen."

She wrenched her arm from his grip and looked at me, her eyebrows raised. "That's not what I saw. She clearly knew you, and knew you well."

"Granger, no—" I began, but she cut me off.

" _Granger?"_ She looked at me with so much venom in her eyes I wanted to take a step back. "You can't even all me by my first name." she shook her head and laughed - a sound that had my blood turning to ice. "I should have known, Malfoy. It was obvious really. You played me, turning on the charm, making me think you had changed. Making me fall in love with you"

"Hermione, no," Weasley tried again, his voice calm and soothing. "This wasn't his fault. He told her about you but she wouldn't listen. Let him explain."

"Oh, that's rich, Ronald," She turned her anger on him, "Let him explain? He hated you just as much, and now you're defending him?"

"Yes, I am." Weasley said. "You know that's not who he is anymore. You know him, Hermione, come on, hear him out."

She shook her head again, "Wow, he's played you too. You're as stupid as I am."

"Oh, would you fucking shut up, Hermione," Weasley snapped, all the calmness leaving him in a rush, his infamous temper kicking in. "Maybe if you actually gave him the chance to explain rather than jumping to conclusions, like you always do, you might see what really happened."

I heard the door open behind us but was too stunned to see who had come out. I was staring at Weasley in amazement. I was certain that he had never dared to tell her to  _shut up,_  but here was my one time enemy defending me to his best friend.

"What's going on?" Ginny spoke from behind us, but I couldn't look away from Granger. She was equally as stunned as I was, staring at Weasley like he had grown another head. "Did you fuck her over, Malfoy?"

"Shut the hell up, Ginny, this is not your business." Weasley barked, but his eyes never left me, "Tell her, Malfoy. Tell her what happened."

I took a breath and looked at her with all the honesty I could muster. "That woman was someone I met one time, two years ago. I never slept with her, never even left the pub with her. She was - is - the type of person who had one thing on her mind, and that was to trap me. I told her back then to fuck off, and I told her the same thing now. What you saw was the worst possible moment. One minute before and you would have heard me telling her to leave. One minute later you would have heard me telling her to leave. I was trying to be polite with her, tried not to make a scene, but it didn't work.  _She_  kissed me. I did not kiss her. You can believe me or not, that's entirely up to you. But I love you and only you, I would never betray you, and you know that."

I was out of breath, but I'd said what I needed to say, told her the truth. I hoped that she believed me, but that decision was now up to her.

Her face remained stoic, simply staring at me, and I couldn't see any reaction that my words might have had.

"What's her birthstone?" Daphne asked stepping beside me a touching my arm gently. I scowled at her, and she smiled and nodded towards Granger. "Her birthstone, what is it?"

"Sapphire." I answered without hesitating.

"Favorite colour?"

"Baby blue," I replied, realising what Daphne was doing, and then added, "Also purple."

"Her Boggart?" Blaise asked, moving to stand next to Weasley, clearly understanding what Daphne had started.

My eyes never left her, "Professor McGonagall giving her a fail grade."

"Her patronus?" It was Pansy this time.

"An otter." I smiled, noting the catch of her breath and saw in her eyes the realisation of why I had the tiny statue on my desk.

"Favourite Tea?" Potter asked.

"Ginger and Pear when she's stressed; Irish Breakfast every other time."

Potter continued, "Her parents?"

"Both muggle dentists, now living in an undisclosed location in Australia."

"Her wand?" Weasley joined in.

"Dragon heartstring core, ten and three-quarter inches, vine wood"

He looked directly, pointedly, at Granger, but asked me, "What was she wearing on the day of the Battle of Hogwarts?"

I took a step closer to her, "Jeans, a pink zip up hoodie, a denim jacket, and if I'm not mistaken, she had a bag slung across her." I moved to stand directly in front of her, my fingers itching to touch her, "Her middle name is Jean; her birthday is the nineteenth of September, which I planned on celebrating with her with a surprise date next week. She hates Quidditch and hates flying, although she is more than capable of doing so. She is a true Gryffindor, both brave and loyal, often times to her own detriment."

I took a breath, "She works too hard because she's a perfectionist, and her biggest fear is failing. She hates letting people down and if she makes a promise to you, she keeps it, no matter the consequences. Libraries are her place of solitude, and she reads at least three books each week. She loves art and loud music, and expensive vodka. She loves thunderstorms and hates avocado. She loves cornflowers, but daisies are her absolute favourite. And since she hates cooking, she would eat cereal for every meal if she could."

She let out a tiny choked sob, and finally I reached my hands up to cup her face.

"She is kind and compassionate, and beyond generous, and will give everyone a chance, whether they deserve it or not." I wiped the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs, "And I will only ever call her Granger,  _my_ Granger, until that one day when I make a vow to be hers for eternity and I am required in that one moment to call her Hermione."

Her tears fell in earnest and she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face into my chest. I held her tightly, whispering how sorry I was, that I loved her, and I would only ever love her.

We stood that way for what seemed like hours, until I felt a solid punch to my arm.

"Fuckers," Pansy said, but she was smiling when I looked at her. "How long?"

I heard Granger's tiny laugh and looked down to meet her tearful smile. "Five dates" she said, her eyes fixed on mine.

"Five dates," I nodded, and not caring that our friends were there, nor that the entire pub may have been watching, I kissed her.

* * *

 

"Hey," she said quietly from the doorway, her hand raised to give me a tiny wave.

"Hey, yourself." I smiled at her, it was hard not to. She was wearing a pair of blue pyjama pants that looked well worn and comfortable, and a white tank that left very little to the imagination. Her nipples were hard, the tiny peaks standing out beneath the ribbed fabric. I wasn't sure if she had deliberately not worn a bra, but had to assume it  _was_ deliberate since she didn't even flinch at my staring at her chest.

Crossing the room to stand beside me, she took in the pots and pans that were simmering on her stove. "This was all in my kitchen?"

"No," l said with a laugh and then nodded towards her fireplace, "I snuck home while you were showering, you know your cupboards are almost bare, don't you?"

"And you know I don't do a lot of cooking." She hopped up to sit on the counter, her legs swinging.

"I do know," I said, stirring the simmering pot in front of me.

She peered into the nearest pot, and then her eyes dropped. "I'm sorry."

"I know that too." I reached for her, squeezing her thigh just above her knee, "And you need to stop saying it."

She had apologised countless times despite my telling her it wasn't necessary, that the scene that confronted her when she entered the pub must have been a shock. I had also explained to her that I was beyond pissed that it had happened like it had. I had wanted to make a scene with her, not with the desperate tramp who had accosted me at the bar. I had wanted the shock to be that of our friends, not her. I had wanted them to hate us just a bit for hiding from them, before they burst into excitement and interrogated us.

Of course, Pansy and Ginny had been indignant when they realised that Daphne and Blaise already knew, and were even more indignant when Weasley told them all to back off and to give us time to deal with what had happened.

So we apparated away; me with a new found respect for Weasley and Granger with a string of apologies. Apologies that I told her repeatedly weren't necessary.

We arrived at her flat, and after insisting that she stop apologising and head upstairs to change out of her work clothes, I did indeed use the floo to return to my own flat and retrieve enough food to cook for her, and I was curious as to just what it was that she ate before I became her personal chef.

I stopped stirring the bubbling pot on the stove and moved to stand in front of her, running my hands along her thighs. "Nothing that happened tonight was your fault. So you don't have to apologise for that."

"Draco, I immediately thought the worst of you, I have to at least say sorry for  _that."_

"And you have," I told her, "More than enough times."

She sighed and looked thoughtfully at me, her lips twisting and a small frown creasing the tiny space between her eyes. I could see a thousand thoughts running through her head, but she said nothing.

Reaching over, I turned off the stove burners; I could see a long conversation in the works.

"No filter," I reminded her and gently tapped her forehead with my finger. "Whatever you're thinking in that brain of yours, just say it."

"I know you don't want me to say it, but I am sorry. I shouldn't have assumed the worst. After everything you've done for me, I should have trusted you," She took my hand in hers, holding it tightly. "But, I am worried that this will happen everywhere we go."

I nodded, "It might and that's my fault entirely, and I am sorry for that. But I think once everyone knows about us, no one will dare to bother me again. You're scarier that you realise, Granger."

She smiled, it was small, but genuine. But I also knew there was more on her mind. I waited patiently for her, knowing that she needed to get her thoughts straight before she voiced them.

She squeezed my fingers and then asked in a quiet voice, "What did you mean when you said she wanted to trap you?"

I curled my free hand around her hip and answered her with complete honesty. "Two years ago, that...woman...propositioned me in the pub, insisting that I leave with her, and that if I did I would have the best sex of my life because she was more than happy for me to be bare with her. No protection necessary, she had it covered. Naturally, alarm bells sounded in my head, and since  _Malfoy heir_ was written all over her face, I told her in no uncertain terms to piss off and to not come near me again."

She nodded slowly, chewing her plump bottom lip, and digesting my words. And then her eyes suddenly went wide and she gripped my hand like a vice. She looked down to the front of my trousers and then back up to my face, and I instantly knew what just went through her head. "But we've...and you've never used anything with me."

"Nope," I said and eased my hand from her grip. "No need to."

Her eyes went impossibly wider, "But why?"

"Because I trust you." I gripped both her hips, pulling her closer to me, and wrapped her legs around my waist. "Because there is no way you would have let me have unprotected sex with you if you didn't have it covered."

"But what if I was trying to trap you?"

Leaning in to kiss her, I whispered, "I wouldn't have cared."

She pulled back to look at me, "So  _you_ were trying to trap _me?"_

I laughed, "Would it matter?" I pressed a hand to her belly, "Because it wouldn't to me."

She looked shocked, but it was the truth. After our tryst in my office, I had panicked, had realised long after the fact that we'd been reckless. But almost as soon as the panic hit, it was gone, and I found that I would be perfectly okay if I was trapped - as it were - by Granger.

I smiled at her, but she was still staring at me, completely dumbfounded.

"You're shocked at this?" I asked running my hands along her thighs.

"Ah,  _yeah."_

"Why?"

She looked down at my hand still pressed to her belly, "Because, um,  _five dates."_ She held her palms up in a  _duh!_  gesture.

"Five dates that started with my cock inside you while you were pressed against my office door." I leaned forward, intending to kiss her, but her hand on my chest stopped me.

"That doesn't mean you can get me pregnant and be so flippant about it."

" _Have_  I gotten you pregnant?" I asked with a laugh.

"Well, actually..." she said slowly, and my heart stopped.

I felt all of the colour drain from my face and I looked down at my hand on her stomach. The happiness I assumed I would feel when she told me this news was nowhere, instead I felt a white-hot fear flood my veins. She lifted my face to look at her and she was grinning.

"No, definitely not pregnant," she poked a finger into my chest, "And your face right now tells me you're full of shit. It's a good thing I'm the responsible one in this madness."

I scrubbed my hand across my face, "That truly wasn't the reaction I thought I would have."

"No, it's the reaction you  _should_ have had." She pulled my hand away from my face, "It's been five weeks, Draco. We shouldn't even be considering this. We need to just be us for a whole lot longer before adding anything else to the insanity."

"I know," I said, my pulse had returned to normal and I felt like I could breathe again. "But despite that little freak out, I meant it. If our recklessness  _had_ caused a tiny problem, it wouldn't matter. We'd be a trio, rather than a duo, without any thoughts of me being trapped."

She linked her fingers behind my neck and smiled, "And that's why I love you."

My heart stopped again.

"It's true," she said, pressing a quick kiss to my lips and leaning her forehead on mine, "I love you, Draco."

I closed my eyes, the air around us grew still and her words seemed to float around me. I hadn't realised how desperately I had wanted to hear her say it. Every time I had been with her, every date we had been on, every time she had smiled at me in the last week, I had hoped that she would say those words. And now, to hear her say them, both terror and relief filled me. Terror that I would fuck this up, relief that I now knew exactly how she felt.

I pulled her to the edge of the counter and sliding my hands beneath her arse, lifted her and walked us slowly towards the couch.

"But, the food," she protested, making me laugh.

"We can eat later." I lowered her to the cushions and followed her down, pressing my weight onto her.

"But I'm starving now," she whined playfully.

"Hermione Granger," I ground my hips into hers making her breath catch, "You do not tell me you love me and then brush me off in favour of food."

"The food is  _so_  good though."

I laughed, "And the sex isn't?"

She pursed her lips, fighting her smile, and shrugged one shoulder, "It's okay."

I dipped my head down and bit her ear lobe, "I'll show you  _okay."_

She squirmed beneath me, laughing as I peppered her neck, her jaw, her face with kisses.

"Okay, okay!" She laughed breathlessly, "The food can wait, the sex is brilliant."

I circled her head with my arms and looked down at her. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were flushed.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the delay. Adulting gets in the way sometimes.
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read this, and your thoughts are always helpful in keeping the process going. I don't always get to thank everyone individually, but I very much appreciate the support and love for my work.
> 
> There's still a bit more to this story, hopefully it wont take as long to get it to you xx
> 
>  


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

 

****** HERMIONE ******

* * *

The late-morning sun was pouring into my bedroom. I was warm and cosy, cocooned in the comforter, and my body was severely protesting my brain's want to wake up. I groaned, arching my back and stretching, trying to pull the dozy feeling from my body. I reached my arm out, searching for him only to find the other side of the bed vacant and the sheets cool.

Goosebumps broke out across my skin and a nervous knot formed in my stomach. Maybe he'd had second thoughts. Maybe my jumping to conclusions had turned him off.

Seeing that woman kissing him had hit me like punch to the stomach, and all the feelings of our teenage years came rushing back in an instant. Despite the fact that Ron had been standing right beside him, despite the fact that Draco has pushed her away, all I could see was them kissing. And while I knew that it was merely a second - probably less - in that moment it seemed like hours.

My own freak out was unjustified - even I knew it - but the sight of someone else kissing him, of touching him, of even looking at him, made me blind with fury, the likes of which I had never felt before. And in my heart, I had known he wasn't at fault, but my anger took over and it was easy to simply just blame him.

And then his whispered words of sorry, of how much he loved me and only me, nearly broke my heart. He was apologising for my mistrust, and it was in that moment I realised how much I had hurt him.

And just how much I truly loved him.

I closed my eyes again and my heart squeezed as I pictured the scene outside the pub. His face had been distraught thinking that it was over, that I would end it there and then. And if it hadn't been for Ron...well, who knows.

Ron had always chided me for over thinking everything, had done so since we were children, and this time I had proved him correct. I had jumped to the worst conclusion possible. Instead of trusting Draco, I assumed the worst. And now I hated myself for it.

He had asked for my forgiveness for the way he treated me all those years ago, had shown me how much he had changed, how big his heart really was. And I still assumed the worst.

For a moment this morning, before the sun had risen, while the light was still a grey hue filtering in through the windows, I had woken to find him watching me. He had given me a small, hesitant smile. It was a smile that told me he had been genuinely hurt regardless of the fact that he had repeatedly told me he was fine.

I had leaned in to kiss him, apologising once more for not trusting him. And when he started to tell me I didn't have to, I pressed my fingers to his lips, stopping him.

"No," I said, "I should have trusted you, and I didn't. I hurt you and I am sorry. I love you Draco, and this thing we have is good. So good. And I almost ruined it."

He pushed my unruly hair from my face and shook his head, "No, I would have fought for you. I would have dragged you back to me and made you stay."

"Would it have been that simple?"

He smiled, "It would have. And you're right; this thing is good. I don't want to lose it. You are where my heart is, I'm not going anywhere."

And that was the end of it. Easy. Simple. Settled.

I pushed myself to sit up, and I sighed; his black t-shirt was draped over the end of the bed, his jeans were a crumpled mess on the floor. When he'd snuck out for food the previous night, he'd also changed into my favourite t-shirt. Although, favourite was probably incorrect, since I was fairly certain that it was the only one he owned. But he knew I loved him in it, so much so I had asked him to keep it on when he fucked me on the couch after I'd just told him that I loved him.

I grinned, glad that he wasn't here to see it. I was sure that he would be even more smug if he saw the goofy look that was plastered across my face. I loved him. Draco Malfoy. Bane of my teenage existence, and I loved him. Of course, it wasn't a new thing. I had been jealously pining after him for months, but the words - those three little words - made it all real.

And his reaction had been priceless. He was as relieved to hear those words as I was to say them. I love you. The words were almost a vow between us, one that said so much, and yet at the same time, held such a simplicity.

And then the heady aroma of fresh coffee hit me, winding its way up the stairs and curling around me, luring me out of the warmth to go in search of him. I pulled on my pyjama pants and tank, picking up his t-shirt as I walked across the room and headed for the stairs.

Stopping in the doorway of my kitchen, I enjoyed the sight before me. Perfectly groomed Draco had nothing on morning Draco. He was standing at the counter, pouring coffee into two mugs, wearing only his boxer briefs, his hair a scruffy mess. And the matching scruff on his jaw had me wanting to head right back upstairs and feel that stubble on my thighs.

"Well, isn't this the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

He looked up at the sound of my voice and then down at the length of his near-naked body, "Is pretty the right word?"

Moving to stand beside him, I leaned one hip on the counter and ran my hand over his cotton covered arse. "So pretty."

Laughing, he leaned in and kissed me, "Good morning."

"Good morning." I looked at his bare chest and sighed. I held up his t-shirt, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you need to put this on."

He took it from me, a confused look on his face, "Why?"

"Because," I began and then glanced at the clock, "It's almost ten, and we have about three minutes before they all come tumbling through the floo."

I didn't have to be more specific. I knew that it would only be a matter of time before they all arrived. There was no way that they would let the events of the previous night slide. In fact, I was more surprised that it had taken so long. Pansy and Ginny would be itching to get here to interrogate us both, and I was sure if the others had let them, they would have been here before the sun was up.

He nodded and pulled the shirt over his head, and I watched begrudgingly as his smooth skin disappeared beneath the fabric.

"How bad will it be?" He asked as his head popped through the top.

I shrugged, "They'll be pissed, but I think we'll be fine. Blaise and Daphne, on the other hand, may have to leave town."

He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me, and kissed the top of my head. "I'll just hide behind you."

I slapped his chest, "Chicken."

And as if on cue, the floo lit up and I turned in Draco's arms, pressing my back against his chest. He curled one arm around my shoulders, and casually slipped his coffee, watching as Ginny and Pansy literally fell out of the fireplace, tumbling onto my living room floor. There had clearly been a disagreement as to who would travel first and going by the state of them both - tangled together and covered in dust - they'd opted for a side-by-side trip.

Daphne stepped out behind them a few seconds later, shaking her head and laughing. "There was a disagreement as to who would go first."

"I figured," I said and looked down at my two friends, shaking my own head.

"The two of you don't find this at all weird?" Draco asked and I snorted a laugh.

They both sat up, coughing and wiping dust from their eyes. "Find what weird?" Ginny spluttered.

"The fact that the pair of you swapped boyfriends, and yet are still comfortable enough to roll around on the floor together."

They looked at each other and then back at us.

"You know that Blaise was never my boyfriend." Pansy said standing and dusting off her clothes.

"No, I certainly wasn't," Blaise confirmed as he stepped out of the floo.

Ginny snorted a laugh, taking Blaise's offered hand to help her from the floor. "Oh please, the rumour was that the two of you were shagging like rabbits."

Pansy stared at her for a second and then looked at Blaise, before the pair burst out laughing.

"Who was shagging like rabbits?" Ron asked, moving quickly out of the way as the floo glowed again and Harry joined the crowd in my living room.

"Blaise and Pansy," Daphne informed him.

Harry looked questioningly at Pansy who flapped her hand in his direction, telling him, "It's complete bullshit. We kissed once, it was terrible and we've never spoken about it since." She sat at the counter and pointed a finger at me, "And don't think I can't see what the both of you are trying to do."

I gripped Draco's arm that was wrapped across my chest and smiled sweetly, "We're trying nothing."

"Nothing, my arse." Ginny flopped into the chair beside her, ignoring my act, and waved her hand in a vague circle in our direction. "This is...?"

"This is breakfast." Draco said from his safe place behind me, "And it was quite pleasant until about two minutes ago."

"Whatever," Pansy said rolling her eyes. "Five dates? What the hell is five dates?"

I sighed, looking at them all. It was like a jury sitting in front of us. Daphne had joined Pansy and Ginny at the seats at counter; Blaise was leaning on his elbows beside Ginny and grinning like a lunatic; and Harry was looking between everyone slightly confused.

"Ron, are you okay?" I asked since he was still hovering beside the fireplace.

He held up his hand, "I'm fine. The kitchen is kind of crowded."

"Or are you worried she might hex you after you told her to shut the fuck up?" Draco chuckled and Ron's cheeks tinged pink.

I stepped out of Draco's hold and rounded the counter, moving to stand in front of him. "Thank you."

He dropped his head, embarrassed, and mumbled, "Yeah, that's okay."

Reaching out to touch his arm, I told him softly, "Hey, I mean it. I was being unreasonable and deserved it."

He looked up at me, still embarrassed, "I could have been nicer about it."

I hugged him, "No, you're my friend, I expect nothing less than for you to pull me up when I'm being an idiot."

Laughing, he hugged me back, "This is all a bit of a shock, you know that?"

"Yeah, sorry about that." I said dragging him over to the kitchen. He stood behind Daphne, curling his arms around her shoulders and I moved back to stand with Draco. Daphne winked at me, letting me know that I was right. Ron had been worried that I would be pissed at him.

"All this sappy bullshit is wonderful, but can we please get to what the fuck is happening here!?" Pansy cried.

"Well," Draco began, "Almost two months ago, Granger here came to my office and things got a little, shall we say, heated?"

"Oh my god!" I groaned and covered his mouth with my hand. "You don't have to tell them everything."

"But they asked." He mumbled behind my hand, his eyes smiling.

"Wait," Blaise said holding his hand up, "In his office. You and him? Oh, this is brilliant."

"That's what I said," Daphne chimed in and she pointed at Draco, "Him, I certainly imaged doing something like that. But her? Absolutely not."

"Hey!" I said indignantly, "Why wouldn't I do something like that?"

"Because it's you, and honestly, that's not something you would do in a million years" Ginny pointed out, a tiny, knowing smirk on her face.

"Well, I did. Against the door." I smirked back at her, "And I'm certainly not a million years old."

She grinned at me, proud of my admission. "Although as proud as that makes me, I am severely disappointed that these two knew all about the pair of but the rest of us did not. Why is that?"

"Blaise guessed, apparently," I told her, "And Daphne caught us when we were all out on Luna's hens do." Pansy and Ginny both looked Daphne, and I laughed, "Don't blame her, Draco showed up very unexpectedly."

"Okay, stop." Harry said, "Go back to the start-" He held up his hand, "Not what happened in his office, after that."

I nodded at my pragmatic friend, smiling. "Draco and I have been seeing each other for about," I looked up at Draco, "Six weeks? Seven?" He nodded, agreeing, and I continued. "We haven't told anyone because I needed to make sure this was real. That he wasn't just trying to score with me and move on."

"Why would you think that?" Ron asked, "He's been hitting on you in the pub for the last year."

I shrugged, "I know, but he _is_ Malfoy."

Pansy frowned at Draco, "And you were okay with that? I think I'd be insulted."

"No," Draco said and wrapped his arm around my shoulders again, "I was an arse to her, I deserved her reluctance. I'm actually surprised that she agreed to it at all."

"And the five dates?" Harry asked.

"I figured it was a reasonable request," I said, "Five dates in five weeks, that way I would know if he was serious. It was all up to him. He had to take me out, impress me, and after that, we would tell you all."

"Clearly it worked then?" Ron said with a nod towards us.

"It did," I said unable to stop my smile from spreading across my face. "Although, if it hadn't been for you, we might not be having this conversation."

His cheeks went pink again, and he mumbled for me to stop.

"I probably should thank you too, Weasley," Draco said, "I mean seriously. Thanks."

Daphne patted Ron's arm, "See, I told you they wouldn't hate you."

"Anyway," Ginny rolled her eyes as we slipped yet again away from what she really wanted to know. "Back to these five dates. How impressive were they?"

"Libraries, art galleries, grungy concerts." I paused and grinned, "He taught me to fly a broom."

"You got her to fly on a broom?" Harry's eyes were wide, "That _is impressive."_

"It is, but I can't imagine Draco taking you to a grungy concert." Daphne screwed up her nose.

Shaking my head, I laughed, "I took him." They all looked confused and I sighed. "After our third date, I realised that Draco knew me more than I knew him, so he suggested that I take him out to prove that I did indeed know him. I had no idea what to do, so I took him to a Corey Taylor concert that I was going to anyway and he loved it."

Blaise laughed, as did Harry. The others still looked confused.

"A muggle rock musician," Draco explained and they all nodded slowly, still not really understanding who we were talking about.

"Okay," Pansy said still nodding slowly, "Five dates makes sense, I guess. But why now? The two of you could have been shagging for months. I mean clearly you both wanted to."

I closed my eyes, leaning into Draco, wrapping my arm around his back. He had been so open and honest with them all the previous night, I figured it was my turn. "Because now was when I was ready. I knew I wanted to be with him, had long felt something for him, but I was nervous about it. He wasn't the nicest person at school, but all of us have changed, and I guess it was a few months ago that I really saw how much he cared about me. That was why I started responding to his remarks in the pub. I want to gauge his reaction, and his reaction pretty much confirmed my suspicions."

"And those were?" Ginny asked.

"That he wanted more than to just get into my pants. He wanted so much more than that, and so did I." I smiled up at him. "Everything changed that night in his office. I changed. He changed. It was like everything shifted and it was deeper somehow. It was more. We were more." I pressed up on my toes and kissed him. "And when we're alone, when it's just him and me, I see a different side of him. He's kind and thoughtful and surprises me almost on a daily basis. And everything about this feels right. It feels like we belong together."

"You've always belonged together. If it hadn't been for his stupid pure-blood upbringing, Lucius and Narcissa would have fallen at your feet and begged you to marry their son." Blaise said, and then looked at Ron, "Sorry Weasley, but it's true."

Ron planted a kiss on Daphne's cheek and laughed, "I'm happy right here."

Ginny tapped the counter in front of her, "So there'll be no more hiding this then?"

We both shook our heads.

"No more hiding," Draco assured her, "Had that incident not happened last night, none of you would be here right now. This conversation would have happened in the pub, and Granger and I would have still been in bed."

"And, we're done here," Harry said, holding both his hands up, but I could see the amusement in his eyes. "I don't want to hear this, it is Malfoy after all."

"You married Parkinson," I countered, and Pansy reached over and slapped my arm.

"Shut up," She groused good naturedly, and then her mouth curved into a sly smile, "At least now you can stop wondering just how good us Slytherins are in bed."

I laughed and wrapped my arms tightly around Draco, "We're back to talking about sex. They don't hate us. I think we're good."

"Not quite," Ron said, his face had suddenly grown serious. He steeled Draco with a glare, "You said this was breakfast? Where's the food?"

Blaise reached over and cuffed the back of Ron's head, "You might almost be my brother-in-law, Weasley, but you're still an idiot."

* * *

 

* * *

Saturday morning brunch became our Friday night at the pub - minus the alcohol - with Draco cooking for everyone, after Blaise, Harry, and Ron all insisted that he put some more clothes on. I of course protested; I was more than happy for him to be barely dressed and in my kitchen.

He had obliged - the guys, not me - and put on a pair of sleep pants, although I wasn't entirely sure if it was because they had demanded that he do so, or if it was because Ginny, Pansy and Daphne were making him uncomfortable by constantly staring at his arse.

They filled us in on the events after we had left; apparently, we had caused quite the stir. As we had suspected, our friends hadn't been the only audience we'd had. The entire pub had watched the scene unfold outside, and then had spent the remainder of the night talking about - and speculating about - what they had seen.

We would be the centre of attention for some time to come.

"You two are good together, I've never seen either of you so happy." Daphne whispered in my ear as she hugged me good-bye. "I bet the sex is amazing."

I almost choked. Out of all of my friends, Daphne was the last one I expected to ask me that.

She winked at me as she stepped back, mouthing _tell me later,_ before stepping into the floo and disappearing.

"What did she just ask you?" Draco wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my shoulder as I stared blankly at the fireplace. "You look shocked."

Shaking my head, I turned to face him, "Daphne's supposed to be the quiet, demure one, right?"

Laughter burst out of him, "Daphne? No. It's the innocent ones you have to watch out for." He paused and laughed again, "Weasley's a lucky man."

"Well, regardless," I shook my head again, "I wasn't expecting her to ask me how the sex is."

His eyes went wide for a second and then his head rolled back and he roared with laughter. I slapped his chest.

"It's not that funny."

"Oh, but it is." He said, still chuckling, "I don't think she's ever asked anyone else that before."

Raising an eyebrow at him, "Didn't you live with her sister? I'm sure she asked her."

He dragged my hair over my shoulders and cupped the back of my neck, "Would you want to know about your sister's sex life?"

I screwed up my nose, "If I had a sister, probably not."

"Exactly," He leaned in and kissed the side of my throat, "And Astoria was more about scratching an itch. Believe me, this is so much different."

I tilted my head slightly. Having his mouth on me was becoming as natural as breathing. "You were with her for three years, I'm sure it was more than that."

"No, it really wasn't." He pulled back to look at me, "Do you really want to talk about this right now?"

"Not really." Tugging on the waist of his sleep pants, I grinned, "I'd rather talk about the girls staring at your arse."

"We're definitely not talking about that." He shuddered and grimaced, "I feel violated, and now I think I need a shower."

"A shower?" I slipped my hand under his t-shirt and circled my fingers across his navel, "Do you want some company, because I could get one of the girls back?"

He poked my ribs making me laugh, "Which one would you choose?"

"Well," I mused, "Pansy is like your sister, so that'd be weird. And you were with Astoria, so Daphne would be even weirder. Ginny?"

"The fiery red-head." He looked to consider her, "That might work."

Laughing, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, "I'll let her know. Now, since I'm here, will I do?"

He didn't respond. Instead, in a split second we were in my bathroom, and he was stripping my clothes off. I turned the water on while he stripped his own clothes off and stepped into the shower. The door clicked shut as he joined me, turning us so the water washed over us both.

I reached for the soap, telling him to turn around. He grinned and did as I asked, clenching the muscles in his arse as he did so.

"For the girls," He chuckled and I slapped the tensed muscles, making him flinch. "Or not."

"Definitely not." I kissed the middle of his back, then washed his shoulders and down his spine to that perfect arse. I ran one soapy hand over him, "All of this belongs to me."

He looked over his shoulder at me and winked, "You know it does."

Kissing his shoulder, I continued to wash every inch of him, my own skin beginning to heat up with the thought of him doing the same to me. When he turned around, I teased him, dropping to my knees and running the lather along his legs, watching his face as his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. His breathing shallowed as my hands slid along the insides of his thighs, moving higher and higher to where he was hard, where he was waiting to be touched.

But I didn't touch him, not where he wanted. Instead I teased him further, kissing his stomach, and sliding my hands over his hips and up his sides as I slowly stood. I loved the feel of him, loved touching each of tiny scars that marred his pale skin. The tiny flaws endearing him to me all the more.

He dipped his head down, meeting my mouth, kissing me with tiny pecks against my lips, his hand finding the soap and easing it from my hand, letting it drop to the floor.

"They know." He ran his hands along my sides, ghosting his fingers teasingly along the curve of my breasts. "As does everyone else."

"They do," I agreed, smiling at the look of sudden realisation in his eyes. "Are you okay with that?"

"Am I okay with everyone knowing that you're mine?" He kissed me, sucking my bottom lip between his, "I want the entire world to know. I want every man on the planet to know that I will beat the snot out of them if they even look at you."

"Can I do the same with the women?" I dropped my head back as he kissed his was across my shoulder to my throat.

"Permission granted," He murmured against my skin in a voice that let me know this conversation was over.

His hands began to roam, moving slowly, up my back, curving around my ribs and up to cup my breasts, teasing as I had done to him. I sighed at the feel of him, slow and deliberate, touching me everywhere with gentle hands and soft kisses. He was building me up, bring the ache that seemed to be permanently throbbing low in my belly slowly to the surface. He knew me, knew what I needed, knew what I wanted and when I wanted it, without having to ask. He knew that this time I wanted slow, wanted hours, wanted him nothing more than to simply feel him all over me.

He eased me back against the wall, and I smiled; he'd waited until the steam from the hot water had warmed the tiles before pressing me against them.

Curling my hand around his jaw, I lifted his face to look at me. "I love you."

He reached up and pushed my wet hair away from my face, "And I love hearing you say that."

I wound my arms around his neck and he reached down to cup the back of my thighs, lifting me so I could wrap my thighs around his waist. I felt him hard against me, rocking gently, pressing just inside and pulling back out.

"Do you feel that?" He murmured against my mouth, "Do you feel how good that is?"

"Yeah," I whispered, "Yeah. So good."

"This is what I want, Granger," He kissed me, his tongue sliding into my mouth, pulling a low groan from me. "This right here, this feeling. I want this forever. I never want to lose it."

I gasped as he pushed into me, slow and strong, stilling when our hips met. "Draco... _oh!"_

His mouth dropped to my neck, "It's _insane._ Do you feel it?"

"Yes." The word rushed out of me in another gasp. "Draco, yes. _God, yes."_

I dropped my head back against the tiles as he pulled out slowly and then pushed back in. I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath catching. We'd done this, we'd been this close, this naked, this intimate, but with his mouth on my skin and him moving this slowly, I was finding it hard to breathe.

It was almost too much; his whispered words into my neck... _love...beautiful...mine..._ his skin so warm and slick, the quiet slap of his thighs against mine. But the feeling, the one he wanted forever, I felt it too. It was relief, it was hope, it was the thought that he was my forever. That I was his.

"Draco," I whispered and he lifted his head to look at me. I lifted my hand to his cheek and our eyes locked, "I'm yours. Always."

He jerked against me at my words. "Always," He whispered and pressed deeper and harder into me.

I rolled my hips into his, tensing against him, my thighs tightening around his hips. I felt the hot flush crawl across my chest, felt the stir between my thighs. I tried to stop it, tried to hold back, it was too quick and I wanted to hold on, wanted to wait for him.

"No," He murmured, "Let go. _Come_ for me, Hermione."

The water, the sounds of his heavy breaths, the sound of my own heartbeat, all faded into nothing. _Hermione._ Not Granger. It pushed me over. I was coming, clenching around him, sounds choking their way out of my throat. I dropped my head to his shoulder, clutching his back, my body shuddering against his.

He shifted his hips, driving deeper into me, his body trembling as he drew closer to his own climax. I could feel the heat of his breath, the way his body tensed, the loud groan against my throat when he spilled inside me.

It was his office. It was the garden. It was the floor in his hallway after the concert. It was all of it. And it was more. It was love and lust, forgiveness and redemption, and raw emotion all rolled into this one man. This one man who had given me his heart, and had taken mine in return.

He slipped out of me with a groan, lowering me carefully to the floor. My legs shook and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly. We were both warm, our skin soft from the water and the steam, muscles tight and trembling, both hearts racing.

His lips pressed against my temple, then he whispered close to my ear. "Stay with me, in my house. I don't want to ever be apart from you. Stay there with me."

"Yeah," I breathed.

"Yeah?" He cupped my face, looking at me as if he was unable to truly believe that I was agreeing to stay with him.

I nodded. "Yeah."

His lips met my forehead, pressing and lingering, the heavy rise and fall of his chest giving away the fact that he was struggling to hold his emotions in.

"I love you," he whispered, "I love you an insane amount."

"I know how that feels," I whispered back.

Kissing the tip of my nose, he smiled before bending to retrieve the soap, and then, just as I had done to him, he carefully washed me, my chest, my stomach, curving his hands around to my backside, and then very gently he washed the overly sensitive skin between my legs.

I sighed, leaning my head back and running my hand down his chest. "I could get used to this."

He kissed my jaw, my cheeks, my lips, "I'll be only too happy to oblige."

We stepped out from the now tepid water and he wrapped me in a towel, drying me before doing the same to himself. I pulled him into my bedroom, dragging him to lay with me on my bed. He cocooned our naked bodies in the comforter, and stretched his arm out so I could lay my head on his bicep.

I ran my fingertips across his cheek and he closed his eyes, exhaling a long breath.

"This," he said and slowly opened his eyes. "This is what I've been waiting my entire life for. This calm feeling. This feeling that everything is finally right."

A smile that spoke volumes slowly curled his mouth, and my heart squeezed with a deep knowing knowledge that he had finally allowed himself to forgive his past and look only to a future that had me in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're almost done...


	14. Chapter 14

****** 55 DATES LATER ******

****** DRACO ******

* * *

 

I was watching her closely, watching her reaction. _Gauging_ her reaction. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but silence wasn't it.

She was looking at her hand, saying nothing, just staring. Her thoughts usually tumbled out of her in a constant stream, especially when she was excited. However, her silence was unnerving. She looked unsure, not quite knowing what to make of it.

"Grang-" I began, but she held up her other hand, telling me to hush.

The silence stretched on, until finally, _finally,_ she looked up, her eyes wide. "Yes?"

Pansy nodded, "Yes! You felt it!"

"Oh my god! Pansy!" Granger hugged her and pressed her hand back to Pansy's ever-expanding belly, "There _is_ a baby in there!"

Pansy laughed, "I certainly hope so. Otherwise I might have some explaining to do."

Pansy was about 6 months pregnant, and this baby was finally making itself know to the world. Pansy had been telling us for weeks that she'd finally realised what it had been like for Potter to have had someone else living in his head. It was weird, she had tried to explain, slightly freaky, and completely incredible.

Potter's description of having someone inside his head was a little different.

"Pansy, this is amazing," Granger said, her eyes still wide, but she was smiling as she clearly felt Pansy's baby moving.

"You look like you're about to faint, Malfoy." Potter chortled, "Do you need some water?"

Scowling at him, I ignored his comment, and continued to watch Granger. Her face was a picture of delight as she and Pansy ignored both of us and talked animatedly about her pregnancy. It was something we had only discussed once. And that was so early in our relationship, it had pretty much been forgotten. But the current look on her face told me this conversation might come up again soon.

I wasn't _completely_ opposed to the idea of having a child with the woman I loved, but not yet. I was nowhere near ready; the mere thought of having a child scared me to death. Another person to be completely responsible for? That was terrifying.

And we weren't married yet. Not even engaged. We hadn't even discussed anything serious in our future. We were still simply us. Still navigating our way through our newly combined lives.

But now she was looking at Pansy with an expression that I had never seen on her face before. It wasn't jealousy. Longing? _Was it what she wanted?_

I scratched the back of my neck; Potter may have been right. I suddenly felt lightheaded, the pub felt too closed in, and I needed air.

"Draco?" Daphne was looking at me. "Are you okay? You're very pale."

"Who's very pale?" Ginny asked plopping down into the chair next to Blaise, looking exhausted.

He kissed her cheek, welcoming her after what appeared to be a long day, "Draco is. I think he's weirded out by Pansy's belly."

I tugged at my tie, "I think I need some air."

Granger stood when I did, grabbing my arm and following me out the door. The cool air hit me, and I wrenched my tie from my neck, it felt like I was suffocating. I strode away from the pub, needing some distance, and she had to almost jog to keep up.

"Draco," her voice was alarmed, "What's going on?"

"Is that what you want?" I blurted, turning to face her. "A baby? Is that what you want?"

She looked startled, "A baby? No. Why would you think that?"

I pointed over her shoulder, in the direction of the pub, "You were looking at Pansy like you wanted to hit her for being pregnant because you're not."

"Hit her?" Shaking her head, she placed her hand on my chest, "Draco, calm down and tell me what's going on here."

I closed my eyes, gulping in deep breaths of air, and trying to calm my racing heart. "I'm not ready for that. But I saw how you were looking at her, and..."

I opened my eyes and she was smiling at me.

"And you panicked?"

I nodded.

Wrapping her arms around my waist, she laughed, "Draco, no. I'm not ready either. Not even _close_ to ready. I'm not sure what you were seeing, but it wasn't me wanting that. I'm just excited for them both, that's all."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, you idiot." She kissed my mouth, still laughing. "I'll tell you when I'm ready, but it won't be any time soon."

I exhaled deeply and wound my arms around her shoulders, pulling her to me, "Sorry. I guess I overreacted."

"Maybe a little," her voice was muffled against my shoulder. She was clearly trying to stop her laughter.

I sighed, shaking my head at my own stupidity. "Can we go home? I don't think I can go back in there."

"Sure," she said looking up at me, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Can I just get my bag?"

I reached my hand out, whispered under my breath, and her bag shot out the open window. "You're a witch, remember?"

"I do remember," she said and plucked the bag out of the air. "I taught you that. But I thought it might be polite to say goodnight."

Looking back at the pub, I shrugged, "They'll be fine."

"What's going on with you?" She asked when we appeared back in our flat "You've been fine with Pansy's pregnancy. Why are you suddenly panicked about it?"

I crossed the living room to the bar and poured two drinks, "I don't know. Long day, I guess. Supplier issues."

She snorted a laugh as I handed her the glass. "Maybe if you weren't such a demanding arse, your suppliers would be nicer to you."

I tipped my glass in her direction, "Maybe my suppliers like me to be a demanding arse."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

I laughed and held out my hand, "Do you want to see the stars?"

"Yes!" She said emphatically, and dragged me towards the stairs. Her love of the garden hadn't changed. In fact, it had grown exponentially. She was more often than not found lounging under the arbour, reading, or elbow deep in dirt. "I feel like we haven't been up here in days." She stopped at the top landing, and frowned at me. "Actually, we _haven't_ been up here in days. Why is that?"

" _Ah,_ well, the fact that you keep dragging me into bed might have something to do with it."

"I think you have that the wrong way around."

I arched an eyebrow at her, "So, it wasn't you who came down those stairs naked on Wednesday night?"

She put her hand to her chest, "Me? No. I would never ever do anything like that."

"And it wasn't you who sent me new pictures for my nightstand on Thursday?"

Her eyes grew wide and she bit her lip, dragging the pink flesh through her teeth. "I have no idea who sent you those."

I stepped closer and ran my nose along her jaw, "And it wasn't you, who, this very morning, woke me up with her mouth wrapped-"

She placed her hand over my mouth, "Maybe."

I kissed her palm and circled her wrist with my hand, "Maybe you could show me that trick again tonight."

"Maybe."

She reached back and opened the door, turning and walking out to the garden. I followed her, wrapping my arms around her waist as she stopped just a few feet down the path, staring in surprise.

"Do you like it?" I whispered.

"Draco, what...?"

I had transformed the entire garden. It was only temporary of course, but it would serve its purpose. Sunflowers had replaced the regular plants, and covered every inch of dirt, and floating above us, the night sky had been bewitched with swirls of blue and white, interspersed with bright bursts of yellow.

"Van Gogh," she whispered.

"There's more," I told her and led her to the arbour. It had also been transformed.

"Draco," she breathed, her eyes going impossibly wider. "This is...This is Trinity College."

She moved forward, running her hands along the books - something she still wasn't allowed to do at the real college - and stared in confusion.

"Why did you do this?"

I reached past her, plucking a book from the shelf. _Charlotte's Web._ Her childhood favourite. But this version was different. I held it out to her, "This is for you. But to open it, you need to run your thumb along the spine."

She looked up at me, puzzled. I smiled and nodded.

She took the book from me, gingerly, as if waiting for it to explode, and ran her thumb along the spine, gasping when a small click sounded and a tiny hatch opened in the centre of the cover.

Her eyes went wider still when she saw what was hidden inside it.

I took the ring from the tiny hatch. She looked at it, her breath catching, and I knew I had chosen perfectly. A simple, platinum band, with a central diamond surrounded by ten smaller ones. It was classic, 1920's, and it screamed Hermione Granger when I saw it.

"My heart is yours, Hermione Granger." I lifted her hand, noting the tears that had already formed in her eyes. "Please say yes, and marry me?"

She nodded, choking out a yes, and I slid the band onto her finger. She stared at it for several long moments and then looked up at me. She sucked in a breath and then threw her arms around my neck.

"Yes." she said, "Yes, Draco Malfoy. I will marry you."

I lifted her off the ground, spinning us around.

"You're an arse," She said, and I laughed. "It was all an act, wasn't it?"

"And you fell for it." I kissed her, holding my mouth against hers until she made a tiny mewling sound.

The already transfigured arbour changed again and the day bed was back. Clothes were frantically discarded and she dragged me down to the bed, pulling me over her. Her hands smoothed down my back to grip my arse, her knees dropped to the mattress, and I slipped inside her.

I should have told her our friends would be downstairs by now, waiting. Waiting to hear if she said yes. They had been a part of the act, but they could wait.

Hermione Granger had told me yes. She would marry me. She would be my wife. She would spend the rest of her life with me.

Nothing else mattered

Everything could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my real life, one of my clients referred to me as a Rockstar. The comment made me laugh, because I'm not sure that's true, but I'll do the same thing here that I did with that person. 
> 
> *Says thank you.  
> *Takes a bow.   
> *See you next time.


End file.
